


Waiting Between Worlds

by Servantatheart1



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: A.I. Ryou, A.I. and personhood, Fix-it fic, Gen, I just wanted the clone to live, Sort Of, at first, clone ethics, heavy sci-fi themes, in which I draw out the end of s6 for an eternity, in which Lotor does not go insane, the team reacts to Kuron differently and it changes everything, this is how i cope
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-24
Updated: 2019-05-13
Packaged: 2019-06-15 11:48:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 32,055
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15412245
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Servantatheart1/pseuds/Servantatheart1
Summary: What would have happened if Voltron had walked away from the fight at the end of season 6?In which the team has more time to consider the consequences of merging Shiro with his clone and come to a very unorthodox decision.





	1. Why Does it Always Have to Be a Fight?

“Better to shun the bait than struggle in the snare.”    
― William Blake

 

Hunk’s palms were sweating.

Lotor’s fighters hovered with the potential energy of a coiled viper as the Lions and the Sincline ships squared off over Diabazaal. Hunk’s thoughts ran amok as Lotor’s attempts at diplomacy fell flat.

_ Lotor’s ships torched Voltron’s power core last time we fought. We got our butts kicked when Lotor only had two ships and we had five. Now Lotor has three and we only have four. _

The awkward tension of a relationship gone sour grew as Lotor’s pleas bounced off their unified front. That tension was the only thing keeping the yellow paladin from interrupting to bring up his observation.

_ We already destroyed the inter-reality gate. If the castle wasn’t damaged we could have been out of here before Lotor even showed up,  _ he mentally complained.  _ But of course we’re stuck with the option that has injury and death as a likely outcome. Typical. _

“...We are on the same side,” Lotor implored. 

“No. We’re. NOT!!” Allura shrieked and blasted a laser from her lion’s mouth. Hunk jumped and prepared for the inevitable retaliation. 

“Hold your fire!” Lotor barked. Hunk un-clenched his teeth and gusted out a breath, relief temporary but sweet. 

“Allura stop!” The prince begged. “My feelings for you are true, and I know you have feelings for me as well!” Allura all but snarled in reply. 

_ Huh. Never thought I’d see the day the princess was the one chomping at the bit for a fight, but here we are. She deserves it though. If it didn’t end up with us dying this might even be a little entertaining,  _ Hunk thought.

“You betrayed and used me,” Allura hissed lowly. Her voice raised to a crescendo. “YOU’RE MORE LI-“

“Guys.” 

Keith blinked onto the screens. Hunk raised his hand to hit accept, but it wasn’t an option. He sat up straighter. An emergency then. Allura faltered, then cut her connection with Lotor.

“What,” she bit out. Keith didn’t even blink at her brusque tone. 

“Change of plans, I need you to wormhole to me. Now.” 

_ Woah. I’ve never heard Keith sound so panicky,  _ Hunk thought.

“What’s going on?” demanded Lance. 

“Shiro’s dying. I have him in the pod but it’s not doing anything. He needs the med bay,” informed Keith. Lance hailed the castle.

“Coran? How’s it going over there,” he called. An empty screen came up, but Coran’s voice sounded loud and clear.

“Ah, well we’ve exhausted all options except for one. I’m going to set off a bomb in the main turbine. Maybe that will give us enough power to jump start the engine.” 

“What?! Are you sure that’s a good idea?” Pidge shot back.

“No, but this is our last resort. If this doesn’t work, nothing will!” exclaimed a frazzled Coran.

“All right, well be careful,” advised Lance. “Let us know if it works. We’re going to need need the teleduv.” The advisor’s face whipped onto the screen.

“Why? Wh-what's happened?” 

“Shiro’s dying and the lion’s capsules aren’t helping.” Lance summarized. “We’re wormholing to Keith’s coordinates.”

“Understood,” acknowledged Coran. He hefted a small device in his hands. “That about does it. Here goes nothing. Or everything.” His connection cut out. 

Silence reigned for a moment, then a call from Lotor blipped on their screens. 

“Allura,” said Lance softly, “I know you’re angry. You have every right to be. But we have to stall Lotor.” Stony silence echoed from Allura’s comm. Hunk sensed Lance needed some backup.

“We already destroyed the gate,” Hunk chimed in, grateful to voice his previous opinion. “He can’t do anything. Right now, Shiro needs us more.” 

Allura’s face appeared on the screens. Hunk’s stomach twisted. She’d never looked so...small.

“...I’m not sure I’m capable of being diplomatic at the moment,” the princess admitted. Hunk felt a fresh surge of anger toward Lotor.

“Weeelll, he seemed pretty scared of Dayak,” he said, trying to lighten the mood. “Maybe I could give him the old ‘Palin Bol’ and send him running?” Pidge suppressed a snort. No reaction from the Princess though. Oh well. He’d tried. 

“I’ve got this,” declared Lance, hovering his hand over the accept call button. He glanced at Allura’s screen. “May I?” 

“Go ahead,” she allowed. Lance opened the connection to Lotor; and of course Hunk pulled up a screen to watch because he could never resist knowing.

“Red Paladin. I must speak with the princess,” the Galran prince prompted, tone neutral but face impatient.

“Hi, hello. Nice to see you too,” Lance deadpanned. After a beat of no response, he continued. “I’m afraid she’s taking a very important call right now.”  Lance leaned back and folded his arms. “You see, the coalition got wind that we were attacking you. She’s talking them down from sending in a fleet.” He glanced sideways, then back at Lotor. “Or calling it in, I don’t know.” The prince’s lips pressed into a thin line. “Can I take a message?” Lance asked in his most annoyingly chipper customer service voice.

_ So much for stalling,  _ Hunk thought.

“Let the princess know I wish to speak with her once her...call...is over,” Lotor said with a pause that conveyed his doubt. 

“Will do,” replied Lance with all the assurance of ‘not ever.’ His finger hovered over the disconnect button. He hesitated, seeming to remember that he needed to draw it out a little longer. 

“Uhhh,” Lance dawdled, “So, nice space weather today huh? Very...clear! And cold...unless you fly too close to a sun - which supposedly you did? At least that’s the hot gossip on the Galra ‘net anyway. Heh, see what I did there? Hot?” Lotor blinked, bemused. Torn between fond exasperation and battle-ready adrenaline, Hunk just sighed.

“Paladins!” Krolia’s voice sounded brightly, “We have an engine online!” Coran whooped something about his great grandfather and Hunk deflated in relief.

“Let’s get back to the castle” Pidge suggested and wheeled Green around.

“Nice talking with you, but we gotta split” said Lance with a wave and a brittle smile. 

“Please! Just let me speak to the princess for one moment-“

Allura opened a channel and glared a hole through the screen. A chill ran down Hunk’s spine.

“Goodbye Lotor,” she growled with a note of finality. She practically punched the dashboard to terminate the call. Hunk directed his Lion to follow Allura, bringing up the rear and keeping an eye on the Sincline ships. They didn’t budge as the Lions approached the castle. 

Giddiness welled up inside Hunk. He couldn’t believe his luck. Once, just once, the universe answered his unspoken plea.

_ Lotor knew Dayak was going to hurt me until I was smart,  _ he thought. _ Serves him right. Oh and the whole colony thing and using Allura part. That was pretty bad too.  _

____________________

 

Lotor watched as the castle listed sideways through the wormhole and disappeared. 

The rejection, though not entirely unexpected, stung. Lotor huffed out a breath and bared his teeth. Who needs Voltron? He gripped the controls as his arms trembled. He didn’t need *their* help-

“Uhh, engine trouble?” Zethrid asked, commenting on the unusual departure of the castle.

“Must be,” said Ezor. “The clone had to damage it so they couldn’t follow, remember?”

“Oh yeah,” muttered Zethrid.

Lotor turned his attention to the rubble that had once been the inter-reality gate. He had been *so close* to unlimited quintessence! So close to his dream of a new Altea, the princess by his side. 

He removed his helmet and ran his fingers through his hair. He had not anticipated on caring for Allura so much. Her help was essential to gaining access to the quintessence field. But by working with her, he came to admire her and wanted her to be a part of his dream as well. 

His fingers formed a tight fist at his scalp. Now all of his plans had been turned to bitter ash by the reveal of his darkest shame. 

He’d unlocked the mysteries of quintessence and moved onto the next stage of research. Those unpleasant methods were long in the past. Why hadn’t he destroyed that facility?!

Lotor’s hand fell to his lap. He knew why. In the end, he couldn’t bring himself to end all those lives. Preservation of life was the highest Altean priority. But in staying true to the Altean way, he hurt the Princess deeper than could ever be mended. Even he had grown to be ashamed of what he had done. 

But! It was a necessary step in the pursuit of knowledge and saving the Altean race. He’d hoped she would understand that. Maybe in time.

Slowly, the chatter from his helmet began to register again. Someone was addressing him.

“Sir?” Acxa repeated, presumably. Lotor sighed and put his helmet back on. 

“Yes?” he answered.

“What are we going to do now?” She asked.

_ What now indeed,  _ thought Lotor, hands skimming over the controls. After the silence dragged on a bit too long, he could feel his generals exchanging glances over the comms. It felt just like the first test of the inter-reality gate. He was all out of options and answers. 

He only hoped his silence didn’t encourage a real betrayal this time.

A request for a private channel popped up on his screen. In a daze, he accepted. 

“Sir?” Acxa addressed professionally, but with with a hint of worry.  _ Is everything all right? _

He didn’t know how to tell her there was no new plan. All they had was a broken gate and a superweapon with no enemy to fight.

Wait...

“There is still one option,” he said, formulating an idea. “We could cross into the layer between realities right now.” 

“Really, how??” Asked Ezor incredulously, leaning forward in her seat.

“The princess has no idea the abilities her alchemy gave our ships. It is less stable than using the gate, but we are hypothetically able to cross over without assistance,” Lotor informed.

They could cross into the layer between realities now. Forget Voltron. The prince’s skin itched. 

He… _ needed _ back in there. 

“Sooo...are we doing it right now?” Asked Ezor.

“Lotor?” 

The prince looked at his head general. He wanted to, but seeing that unwavering trust made him hesitate. Was he willing to drag them into this? The last time he rushed ahead with plans for the rift it had ended in disaster. He took a deep breath, then let it out. 

Patience. That was his strongest asset. 

“Perhaps not right now,” Lotor said slowly. “The gate is necessary to supply the needs of the empire.” Then, with a quirk of his mouth, he added, “I don’t suppose you want new jobs as quintessence harvesters?”

“A cargo pilot? No thanks,” snorted Zethrid. 

“That’s what I thought,” said Lotor. “We will keep these ship’s abilities quiet for now. As for the inter-reality gate, we’ll simply have to build a new one.”

“Won’t they try to stop us like last time?” Ezor pointed out.

“Voltron is going to be...inconvenient in the future.” Lotor surmised, pushing down a fresh wave of bitterness. “We will simply have to be more cautious.”

“If they try to stop the construction of the new gate, it is an act of war. I’m not certain Voltron is eager to restart an ancient conflict that only recently ended. For now, we will go back to headquarters where I can analyze the quintessence samples that I managed to obtain,” Lotor finished.

_ While he was with team Voltron. With the princess. _

“Entering coordinates for Galra HQ,” said Acxa.

As the ships prepared for the jump, Lotor gazed at the ruined gate once more. Despite all that he said, it didn’t change the fact that ever since entering the quintessence field, something in his bones *hungered* for that white nowhere. 


	2. The Important Questions

“The most confused you will ever get is when you try to convince your heart and spirit of something your mind knows is a lie.”  — Shannon L. Alder

 

Keith pressed two fingers under the clone’s jaw where a tiny pulse fluttered. The force field shimmered closed as he withdrew his hand. He stared at the readings in denial. Same as before.   
  
_This doesn’t make any sense,_ Keith thought, replaying the battle in his head. He placed a hand on the luminescent readings, watching the ripples distort the occupant’s face. Keith knew for certain the clone hadn’t been fatally injured.

Reluctantly, he shifted his hand over the empty arm socket.   
  
_What if the arm is what sustained him?_  Keith thought. He furrowed his brows, tucked a hand under his opposite elbow, and put a fist to his lips.  _What if in trying to save him I’ve done irreparable damage?_ _  
_  
Attempting to shove his worries away, he turned on his heel toward the cockpit. Krolia had messaged less than a dobash ago letting him know that the castle was on its way.  
  
_It’s going to be okay,_  Keith repeated like a mantra as he took the pilot’s seat. He gripped the controls and grimaced. His arms had nearly been yanked from their sockets after he managed to save himself from a freefall. The doomed attempt to haul Shiro to safety had only worsened the strain. He bowed forward and let his eyes fall shut.  
  
“Hang in there,” he murmured like a prayer. He couldn’t feel Shiro’s essence, but he knew his friend was there.  
  
Light flashed through the cockpit and the castle burst from swirling cosmic blue.  
  
“I’m coming in,” Keith declared. He rapidly adjusted course to avoid collision as the castle did a barrel roll.  
  
“Woah, what’s going on?!” he demanded.  
  
“Sorry Keith, we only have one engine working!” apologized a frantic Coran. He leapt from screen to screen. “I’m shutting it off now to divert power for the medbay. The others are heading out in their lions to try and stabilize the castle so we don’t drift any further. You’ll have to make the landing on your own, I’m afraid.”  
  
“Copy,” replied Keith. Landing wouldn’t be a problem, but if something was wrong with the power, what about the medbay? Coran’s improvised repairs tended to have mixed results.  
  
_Also they never engaged Lotor. Where’d the damage come from?_ _Keith thought._ _  
_  
The landing sequence passed in a blur. Keith barely waited for the lion’s ramp to touch down before he raced to the cargo hold. He and pushed the capsule through the hangar at a jog. His wolf blipped to the side of the pod and galloped alongside it. Krolia appeared on at the door, and the three of them ran as quickly as they dared through the halls. Krolia took the lead, opening doors and removing obstacles. The low emergency lighting flashed over the clone’s face as their feet pounded their way to the medbay.  
  
Blinding light made Keith stumble as they finally reached their destination. Krolia helped slow the pod, and Keith blinked to adjust from the darkness. Coran acknowledged them with a wave from one of the medical tables as Romelle finished securing a bandage around his head.  
  
“What happened?” inquired Keith. Coran leapt up dramatically, startling the young Altean.  
  
“Ah, just a miscalculation when it came to the bomb. Don’t worry about me,” he reassured, flapping a hand. “Let’s get number one into the pod, shall we?” Krolia, Coran, and Keith worked in tandem to bundle the clone into a cryo suit as Romelle packed away the first aid supplies.  
  
“How are these pods different than the ones in the Lions?” asked Romelle in her lilting voice.  
  
“Excellent question,” said Coran. “Each paladin has a pod in here set to their specific quintessence signature.” He gestured to the wall where the personalized pods rested.  
  
“The ones in the lions are meant to keep the occupant in a quazi-stasis until they can get to the ones here,” continued Coran, pulling the back of the suit closed as he cradled the clone’s head expertly. “These are also of higher quality and have more power due to the castle. Also, it helps if a medic is there to determine the correct settings. These suits help direct the quintessence regulators.” Romelle nodded like she understood. Maybe she did. She was Altean after all.  
  
“There we are, help me get him in,” grunted Coran as he slung the only available arm over his shoulder. Keith braced the side where the prosthetic used to be, the empty sleeve flopping in his face. Krolia helped them lift their charge toward the pod cheerfully labeled “Shiro,” complete with Pidge’s doodle of the Black Lion. That made Keith pause.

  
_Will this even work for the clone?_ he wondered. Coran rambled as they placed not-Shiro into the luminescent tube.   
  
“Thankfully this room was able to reset after the virus. The diverted power from the engine was enough to get it up and running,” Coran offered, projecting positivity into the situation.   
  
“Virus?” questioned Keith.   
  
“Right, you weren’t there,” murmured Coran, pushing a button on his tablet. He glanced at the clone as the force field fused into place. “He uploaded it,” the advisor finished with a sad gesture at the pod.   
  
_So that’s what the clone had meant when he said that he’d taken care of the others_ , thought Keith. Thankfully the team pulled through, but the castle had looked better.   
  
“How’s the castle?” asked Keith.   
  
“It’s seen better days, that’s for certain,” said Coran. “That virus really did a number on it. Pidge was able to terminate the command from Shiro’s arm with a countermeasure she created from its code,” Coran said as he initiated the scan. Keith’s eyebrows climbed to his hairline.   
  
_So Pidge suspected Shiro wasn’t himself?_ No, that didn’t sound like that was the case. Pidge had told them she was paranoid by nature and always had a backup. Even she acknowledged it was a strange thing for her to do. Right now, Keith was glad for it.   
  
Coran buzzed about, checking on various screens. Sensing he was in the way, Keith shuffled over to the stairs and sat. He rubbed his thumb over his knuckles a few times, and Krolia sank down next to him.   
  
“What happened?” she queried.   
  
“I’ll tell the whole story once everyone gets here,” Keith promised. Krolia nodded, then touched his cheek near the scar.   
  
“You’re hurt,” she observed. Keith fought off a wince as Krolia prodded the swollen area.   
  
“I’m fine,” he assured. Krolia huffed a breath through her nose.   
  
“You should put some ointment on it. No sense on getting an infection,” she said gently.  
  
“All right,” Keith allowed.  The wolf teleported in front of him as Krolia left his side to rummage through the medical supplies. Keith gently rubbed the wolf’s ears, the tight knot in his chest unwinding a little.   
  
_Maybe I should do something for my shoulders,_ he thought as they sent him a warning twinge. In fact, now that the adrenaline was wearing off, his body was starting to complain. Loudly.   
  
He glanced back at Shiro’s slack form. As tempting as it was, Keith wasn’t setting foot into his red, bedazzled (thanks Lance), pod until he had answers. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught Romelle pacing restlessly by the medical tables, casting nervous glances at the clone.   
  
“Are you ok?” he called softly. Romelle jumped.   
  
“Me? Yes, thank you,” demurred Romelle. She approached and sat in the spot Krolia had vacated. “I should be asking that of you,” she said. Keith ran his hands through the wolf’s fur.   
  
“He’s going to be alright,” Keith said, more for his comfort than hers. Romelle nodded. Krolia returned to his other side and handed him a small tube.   
  
“It just reminds me of Petrulius,” Romelle blurted. Keith looked up to find her posture hunched. It took a moment for Keith to connect that name with her friend they discovered at the quintessence lab. He understood the helpless feeling.   
  
“I’m sorry,” he offered for the lack of anything better to say.   
  
“I hope you’re able to do something for him,” Romelle said softly, gazing over her shoulder at the pod.   
  
“Me too.”   
  
He applied the ointment as the beeps from Coran’s keypad filled the air. The occasional clank echoed through the castle halls as the Lions worked to steady the ship in space. He breathed deeply and leaned into his mother’s steady presence.   
  
It’s going to be alright. 

 

_________________

 

The medbay doors whooshed open and Lance whipped off his helmet. He was one of the first to arrive for once. Pidge and Hunk weren’t far behind but still.   
  
Keith looked up from his perch in between the new Altean and his Mom (holy crow still not over that). Oh, and a space wolf at his feet.

_What the heck, Keith._ _  
_  
“Hey,” Keith greeted. Lance snapped out of his reverie and took in their prodigal paladin’s haggard appearance.  
  
“Hey to you too,” he replied. Lance wanted to ask if he was hurt, but his tall Galra mom was hovering and probably had it covered. “How is he?” Lance asked instead. He didn’t need to specify who.  
  
“We’re not sure yet. Where’s the princess?” asked Keith.  
  
“Allura's on the bridge,” informed Lance, striding toward the group on the stairs. “We stabilized the castle, but she still wanted to be sure we weren’t going to get sucked into a black hole or something like that.”  
  
“And to make sure Lotor wasn’t following us,” added Hunk as he entered, face sour at the mention of the Galra prince. A frown pulled at Lance’s lips too.  
  
“Hey man,” greeted Hunk, thumping a hand on Keith’s shoulder. Keith hissed and hunched over.  
  
“Oh-gosh-you’re-hurt-I’m-so-sorry-are-you-ok?!” Hunk babbled as he snatched back his hand. Keith grimaced, rolled his shoulder, and sighed.  
  
“It’s fine. I’ll take care of it once we know what’s up with Shiro.” The doors opened again, and Pidge strode in.  
  
“Hey guys. Allura wanted me to tell you that she’s putting out a distress call in case we can’t get the ship moving,” Pidge informed.  
  
“Never thought we’d be the ones sending out a distress call,” sighed Coran. “We’re practically sitting ducks! The amount of work to be done…”  
  
Lance could see dark circles under Coran’s eyes from where he stood. It took a lot for Alteans to get tired, and Coran had been moving non stop ever since this fiasco started. Concerned, he joined the growing semi-circle around not-Shiro’s pod.  
  
“How are you doing, Coran?” he asked.  
  
“Just fine lad, thank you,” Coran reassured with a weary smile. Nonetheless, he perked up at Lance’s show of concern. “If only I could make sense of these readings,” he grumbled, squinting at the screen. Pidge squeezed past him to get a look at the data, and Lance backed away to make space. His gauntlet beeped and he activated the comm, Allura’s face materializing.   
  
“Lance, I tried to reach Keith but couldn’t get a hold of him. Is he there?” she asked with a note of concern. Lance craned his head toward the stairs.  
  
“Hey mullet, what gives?” he demanded without any real heat.  
  
“Oh, my armor was damaged in the fight. Sorry princess,” Keith apologized, standing.   
  
_Fight? Oh man, he had to fight clone Shiro, didn’t he?_ _Lance thought._ _  
_  
“It’s all right,” Allura assured, straightening up. “Lotor doesn’t appear to be following us,” she informed. “Our position is stable and we’re far enough away from any celestial bodies to be safe. I’ve also put out a distress beacon tuned to coalition frequencies. Hopefully we will hear from someone soon. Any update on Shiro?” She paused.  
  
“Er, the clone rather,” she corrected softly.  
  
“Waitwaitwait,” sputtered Hunk and Coran whipped around. Hunk crowded over Lance’s shoulder. “Did I hear that right? A clone??”  
  
“Yes, this is news to me as well!” Coran exclaimed, practically leaning over Lance’s other shoulder. Pidge just stared at the pod with wide eyes, frozen. Everything seemed to be clicking into place.  
  
“Oh yeah,” remembered Lance, “only Allura and I were there when Keith explained. There was no time to tell everyone else.”  
  
“We are *so* bad at communicating,” groaned Hunk, pinching his nose.  
  
“It was a high stress situation, so it was understandable,” defended Allura, shoulders tensing guiltily.   
  
“Yes, the Shiro that attacked us was a clone,” confirmed Keith, cutting off the banter. He stepped in front of the pod and put a hand on the force field.  
  
“This body is barely alive. Shiro’s spirit is in the Black Lion.”  
  
_Oh…_  
  
Lance felt the words gut him where he stood. The only thing keeping him upright was Hunk and Coran’s hands on his shoulders.  
  
“Wait, so after the fight with Zarkon…” Hunk trailed off, disbelief in his tone. Lance stared at the clone in dismay, everything finally making sense. Coran radiated quiet dread.  
  
“He died,” finished Keith. Stunned silence enveloped the group.  
  
“He-“ Lance faltered, “he tried to warn me. Back on Olkarion. But I-“ Lance cut himself off and walked to the pod in a daze. He placed his fists on the barrier, head low.  
  
“I’m so sorry Shiro, I didn’t know. I-I could’ve-“ his shoulders shook.  
  
“Lance,” said Allura. Reluctantly, he stepped back and brought his arm back up. Allura looked intently through the screen. “You did the best you could with the information you had. None of us could have known,” she affirmed. Lance was already shaking his head before she finished.  
  
“While we were waiting outside of Oriande, he told me he was feeling confused. Like, not himself,” Lance countered. “I just sort of... brushed him off. Told him it was a lack oxygen or something.” He hung his head. “I was just trying to respect his privacy, but I should’ve told someone.”  
  
“He approached me later and said it was on your recommendation,” offered Coran. “I performed a medical exam. When I couldn’t find a physical cause, I gave him some pain medication and suggested it was stress. I thought a game of Monsters and Manna could help.” Coran made a face. It did seem ridiculous considering the truth.  
  
“If he admits he’s in pain, that’s the equivalent of saying he needs to go to a hospital,” said Keith quietly. He hung his head. “I should have been here.”  
  
“You can blame yourselves all day, but that cannot change what happened,” said Krolia gently.  
  
“Yeah, I could blame myself for not catching something wrong with the arm,” Pidge backed up.  
  
“He always said he was fine, and we believed him,” added Allura.  
  
“I know,” muttered Lance, “but I still feel bad that I didn’t check on him after that. And- and  I saw him! The original Shiro I mean. When we were on Olkarian and went into that Voltron mindspace? He was there, but I couldn’t hear what he was saying. I should have told someone! Maybe it could have prevented all of this from happening.”  
  
Lance jumped as a big hand descended on his shoulder. His head whipped up to take in the tallest newcomer.  
  
“Would your friend blame you for what happened?” Krolia asked bluntly.  
  
“No, I mean, I don’t think so. No,” Lance stuttered.  
  
“Then you shouldn’t either,” she said firmly. Lance blinked tears away.  
  
“Thanks Mrs. Kogane.” Behind his mother’s back, Keith made a face.  
  
“Just Krolia,” she said with a smile.  
  
“Krolia,” Lance repeated, then extended a hand. “Nice to finally meet Keith’s mom.” Krolia shook his hand, and the other team members chimed in their greetings. Coran cleared his throat.  
  
“This is very touching but you’re all quite distracting. This is a lot more complicated than it seems,” he said hurriedly.  
  
“What do you mean?” prodded Lance.  
  
“That’s what I’m trying to figure out!” exclaimed Coran. Everyone but Pidge backed up to give him space.  
  
“You said the body was barely alive. What does that mean?” Pidge wondered, turning to Keith. Keith just shrugged unhelpfully. Pidge huffed and tapped away at her screen.

  
“Well from what I can tell, the pod seems to have slowed the degeneration,” began Coran. “However, he doesn’t seem to be re-generating any quintessence...”

  
“Didn’t he refuse a pod when he got back? Maybe he was...programmed not to. Because the readings would be different,” offered Pidge.   
  
“He was trapped in a ship for seven quintants, we thought it was normal,” reminded Coran gently. Lance winced.

That must have been terrifying. He remembered Keith hefting a haggard Shiro from that lone Galra ship. He’d seemed so…fragile. Everyone had been so worried yet grateful for Shiro’s return that they hadn’t questioned the extraordinary circumstances of his rescue.  


Speaking of someone’s return…

  
“Keith...what happened after you went through that wormhole?” Lance asked slowly. The team sans Coran migrated to the steps.   
  
“Hold that story, I’m on my way down” said Allura, “I’ve set the castle’s communications so that if we get a response to our distress signal, it will come through on the medbay screens.”   
  
“All right, see you down here Allura,” replied Lance.   
  
“Actually, could you grab some food goo packs on your way down? I don’t remember the last time I ate,” complained Hunk. Everyone chimed in their agreement and Allura promised to bring enough for everyone. Lance sighed and thumped down on the stairs. Hunk sat on his left and Keith on his right. Lance gave him the side-eye.   
  
“What?” Keith demanded with a little of his old grouchiness.   
  
“Ok, I’m not imagining it. You’re definitely taller!” Lance insisted, poking his arm. Keith winced, and Lance flinched guiltily.  
  
“Crapsorryforgot!” he spluttered.

 

___________________

 

Coran never thought he’d have to face this kind of situation. As the princess strode into the medbay, he steeled himself to deliver the news.   
  
The paladins accepted the food goo packs gratefully. Romelle looked at hers curiously, the wolf sniffing at it. Coran was grateful for the small break as well. If the entire castle was still running, it would have been in the night cycle by now. He accepted packs as the paladins ate an instant meal. Coran downed his in one go.   
  
His picked up Pidge’s whisper, “Woah, I don’t think I’ve actually seen him eat.”   
  
“Well due to our superior biology,” huffed Coran, startling the Green Paladin, “we don’t need to eat nearly as often as you humans.”   
  
“Yes, as you so love to point out,” snarked Hunk.   
  
“Anyway,” Coran digressed, throwing away his pack, “sorry to delay your story Keith, but I’ve put something together from the readings.”   
  
“Go on,” said Keith. Everyone stood and crowded around the screens.   
  
“Well there’s good news and there’s bad news,” Coran began. “Unfortunately there’s not a lot of good news. It seems the pod has significantly slowed his degeneration. However, no matter how I adjust the settings he’s not getting any better. I’m sorry, but I just can’t find any physical reason to why he’s slipping away.” Coran pulled a figure, colored purple.  
  
“This is the very first scan of Shiro, shortly after we let Arus,” Coran continued, “And this is how the same reading looks now,” he finished, pulling up a second reading. Lance wasn’t a rocket scientist, but he was pretty sure the low amount of purple coloring on the recent scan wasn’t a good sign.  
  
”I’m not sure I understand,” said Allura. “He clearly has quintessence, so why won’t the regulators work?”   
  
“At first I thought that he doesn’t respond to the quintessence regulators since he’s not Shiro. But they *are* working. For some reason, it seems that the quintessence is draining out of him faster that it’s replenished,” explained Coran, gesturing at the readings.

  
“That’s strange,” said Allura, folding her arms. “Has this ever happened before?”   
  
“No. It is indeed strange. And most odd thing is that it reads as  _Shiro’s_ _quintessence_ _._  As you can see, it’s not nearly the amount from previous readings, but it’s the same essence. That’s the quandary. You can’t just copy someone’s quintessence!” Coran finished with a flail.   
  
“It was the arm,” Keith asserted. “It had to be. Haggar must have found a way.”   
  
“It is possible the arm was like a power source,” theorized Pidge, “and once it was cut, he couldn’t go on. Like a failsafe.”   
  
Brows furrowed, Hunk asked, “How could Haggar even get her hands on Shiro’s quintessence?”   
  


“Maybe Haggar had some from Before,” said Pidge, voice dropping. They all could hear the capital “B” in the term they used for Shiro’s year of imprisonment and torture.   
  
“That seems like the most plausible reason,” Allura said, casting sorrowful eyes to the empty arm socket.   
  
“So, there’s no way to stop it from draining?” asked Lance, a distressed pinch to his brows.   
  
“Not with anything here,” confirmed Coran, mustache drooping.

  
“Wait,” began Allura with a determined set to her shoulders, “let me try something.” She stepped forward to put her hands on the pod. She closed her eyes and a soft blue glow emanated from the point of contact. Then, she stumbled back with a gasp.  
  
“What’s wrong?” Lance asked, steadying her. Allura stared ahead, not really seeing anything.  
  
“It’s...terrible,” she whispered. “His quintessence, there are...holes. It’s as if it’s been torn, leaving gaps for the rest to drain out.”   
  
”A failsafe,” repeated Pidge grimly.  
  
“So how do we fix it?” asked Keith calmly.  
  
“I...I don’t know,” said Allura, aghast. “What I just tried was amplifying the pod so that the quintessence regulators would work faster. The holes began to mend, but it’s not enough.” She turned to face everyone, eyes wide. “He just...doesn’t have enough.”  
  
“But, there’s got to be another way!” pleaded Lance.  
  
“And what about Shiro’s spirit?” reminded Pidge, waving her tablet. “How do we help him?” Allura sighed and rubbed her temples.   
  
Then she snapped to attention. Coran could practically see the light go on above her head.  
  
“Maybe…” began Allura. Everyone perked up hopefully. “If I were to transfer Shiro’s essence from the Black Lion, that could potentially to fill the gaps where it’s draining. And there would be enough to heal itself.”  
  
“So like, put Shiro in the clone?” asked Hunk, eyebrows hiked high.  
  
“Possibly. Since the clone does in fact have Shiro’s quintessence, it would be a simple matter,” said Allura, rubbing her chin. As Coran listened, he got a sinking feeling.  
  
“Yeah, that would give the pods quintessence regulators more to latch onto,” said Pidge excitedly, “And it could mend those tears causing it to drain in the first place like you said.”  
  
“Yes, that would work,” finished Allura, eyes filled with hope.   
  
“Well what are we waiting for?” demanded Keith. “Let’s go get Shiro back!”  
  
“W-wait, Hold up!” shouted Hunk, waving his arms. “We can’t just do that!” Relief flooded through Coran.  
  
“Why not?” asked Keith, tilting his head.  
  
“Think about it man,” stressed Hunk, “We’d basically be overwriting...whoever this is, right? I mean, he’s not Shiro, but he’s still there…?” The end of his declaration turned to a question, and Hunk looked around for support.  
  
“I’m with Hunk,” Lance backed up, jerking a thumb at the Yellow Paladin. “This doesn’t feel right. He’s still alive!” In unison, everyone turned to Coran.  
  
“There’s still brain activity,” Coran confirmed, relieved they were on his track.  
  
“Just a hypothetical situation,” piped up Pidge, “maybe we could wait for him to pass? He’s dying already.” Lance whipped his head around stared at her, wide-eyed. Hunk’s brows furrowed.  
  
Coran’s eyes tightened as he took in youngest paladin. He worried about her all the time. Someone so young should not have to face the consequences of being a paladin. He was relieved that she blocked a lot of the consequences and collateral damage for the sake of her mind. However, it also made her calculating nature even more cold.   
  
Pidge rolled her eyes and reiterated, “ _Hypothetically_.”   
  
“If we let him die, then I wouldn’t be able to do the transfer,” Allura said definitively. “There has to be at least some quintessence in the body to replenish it.” She folded her arms and turned toward the pod. “Lance and Hunk have a point though. Doing this doesn’t feel right. There must to be a better way.”  
  
“I agree,” added Coran. “Your theory is sound Allura. But we must consider the consequences for both Shiro and the clone. He would have two sets of memories, so they would both give up their identity to become one person.”  
  
“Technically he’s an identical copy of Shiro,” countered Pidge, finger in the air. “That’s why we couldn’t tell the difference, and probably why the Black Lion accepted him too.”  
  
“Even if he is a perfect duplicate, there’s still like, bodily autonomy,” Lance argued, flailing his arms.  
  
“He did try to hurt us,” Pidge offered, unsure. Lance’s eyes darkened with temper.

Coran thought he understood. The betrayal, however forced, had hit her the hardest. Her iron wall of code, her pride, and her trust had all been shattered in one fell swoop.   
  
“Why are you trying to justify this??” barked Lance, leaning over her.  
  
“HE stole Shiro’s life!” snarled Pidge, eyes flashing. “He owes it back.”   
  
“Now wait just a minute-“ interjected Hunk angrily.   
  
“Hey!” shouted Keith. Everyone’s head whipped around to him. More softly, Keith continued.   
  
”Listen, the last thing that the clone knew was that he had killed all of you. Before he passed out, he looked horrified of what he had done. And scared.” Keith paused, gauging their reactions. The solemn air encouraged him to continue. “I want Shiro back just as much as the rest of you. Yes, I know that this is not Shiro. But this person is just as much of a victim here. We weren’t attacked by him, we were attacked by Haggar.”   
  
“I know we have no idea what we’re doing, but I don’t think this is what Shiro would want,” Keith finished. A pensive silence hung in the air.

  
“We’re at an impasse then,” said Krolia, folding her arms. “Shiro is stuck in the Black Lion and the clone can’t be revived. And we’re going to lose both of them if we don’t do something.”    
  
“Aren’t there any other options?” asked Romelle, who had been listening the whole time. “You mentioned there were more clones in that facility, Keith. Maybe there was a section that wasn’t destroyed? Survivors perhaps?”  
  
“You mean we should look for another clone?” clarified Hunk. “Um, isn’t that the same thing we’re trying to avoid here?”  
  
“Possibly, but those clones may not have memories implanted yet,” Pidge pointed out.  
  
“It doesn’t matter,” said Allura, sighing. "We are stuck in deep space, and we don’t have time to fix the ship and get to that facility. And it would be foolish to abandon the castle in the lions as we are defenseless right now. We could need Voltron at a moment’s notice.” She paused and glanced at the readings. “And who knows how long a search would take. Krolia is right. We can’t risk losing either of them right now.”  
  
“We should check on that later though,” Hunk muttered, rubbing his chin. “We can’t let the Galra get their hands on any of those clones made that made it.”  
  
“I agree,” said Allura, “but that is a matter for another time. Also, we should talk to Shiro about our plan as well. I could try connecting to him through the Black Lion now that I know he’s there.”  
  
Coran’s temples began to ache. He almost missed the days when Zarkon was the only thing they had to worry about. Almost.  
  
“It’s him that we should be asking,” Lance pointed out, gesturing at the pod.  
  
“You’re absolutely right, but we don’t have a way to ask,” reminded Allura, a weary set to her shoulders.  
  
“Yeah, I know,” Lance sighed, hands on his hips and hanging his head.  
  
“Hey, this might be a long shot...” began Hunk, “But what if you tried what you did on the Balmera?”  
  
“What do you mean?” Allura questioned.  
  
“Could you, I don’t know, put some more quintessence in him?” offered Hunk. “That’s how it worked, right?”  
  
“More or less” said Allura thoughtfully. Coran could see the wheels turning behind her eyes.   
  
“Wait, how was saving the Balmera different from the pods?” interjected Lance.  
  
“The pods don’t put more quintessence *in* a person,” clarified Coran. “It creates an environment where it rapidly regenerates itself. It’s the one thing in the universe that has the remarkable ability to do so.”  
  
“I know it works,” assured Allura, “I’ve done it before with Lance, when I healed him at the Omega Shield.”  
  
“Oh yeah, like what you said earlier,” said Lance. “There has to be quintessence in the body to revive it. Huh, so I wasn't’ completely dead there after all,” he finished in a flip tone.  
  
“What,” said Hunk. Calm.  _Furious_.  
  
Lance froze.   
  
“You never said it was that bad!” Pidge practically screeched.  
  
“Who was the one who got on my case about Naxella?” Keith snarked, but with a concerned shine to his eyes.  
  
“Guys, guys, I’m fine!” Lance appeased, waving his hands. “Allura worked her magic and I’m like brand new. Allura answer the question!!”  
  
Hunk snatched him up in a bone-crushing hug.  
  
“Dude, I’m sorry. You seemed fine afterward. I didn’t know,” Hunk said shakily. Lance patted him on the back.  
  
“It’s ok. And I’m sorry,  _mi amigo-_  Ow!” Pidge just punched his arm, bangs hiding her face.  
  
“Don’t die, jerk,” she muttered.

  
“Yeah I deserved that,” muttered Lance. Keith just folded his arms.  
  
“Remember what you said to me after the Blitz,” was all Keith said. Coran put a hand on Lance’s shoulder, and Allura regarded him with a soft smile.  
  
“To answer your question, Lance, no. You did not die, and I was able to lend you some of my quintessence. I know this method works. I just don’t know if it will work for...not-Shiro.”  
  
Hunk finally detached himself from Lance.  
  
“Can we all just agree from now on we’ll try to communicate better?” he pleaded. Everyone gave their agreement, and Hunk whirled on Lance.  
  
“We are not done with this,” Coran overhead him say. “Got it?”  
  
“Got it,” Lance parroted. Coran released his shoulder and the young man folded his arms self-consciously.  
  
“All right, I feel like I should try the option Hunk suggested,” said Allura. “I want to attempt it with the ship’s crystal though.”  
  
“Are you sure this will work?” Pidge ventured.  
  
“No. Frankly, there’s so much we don’t know,” breathed Allura, overwhelmed. She straightened, determination shining from her eyes. “But we must try.”  
  
“Hey, the worst thing that happens is that it doesn’t work, we put him back in the pod, and think of another solution,” said Hunk.  
  
“I agree,” Keith supported.  
  
“Ditto,” said Lance.  
  
“Let’s give it a shot!” Coran said, hoping he was using correct earth slang.  
  
“Ok,” said Pidge, dubious.  
  
“Coran, I need you to prepare the pod for transport,” Allura commanded. “This needs to be quick. The faster the pod is away from the med bay, the faster we lose him.” She turned to Keith.  
  
“Keith, I need you to try and connect to Shiro’s spirit again. Inform him of our plan and ask his opinion on the transfer we discussed, if it comes to that. We need his opinion. I will come with you to see if I can speak with him as well.”  
  
“Copy,” replied Keith.  
  
Everyone leapt to their assigned task. Coran lead an entourage up to the bridge, pushing the detached pod out of the medbay. He watched as not-Shiro’s vitals dropped further.  
  
_Please work,_  he thought. He had failed this young man who he viewed as a nephew. He remembered a bright smile and shining eyes. A frustrating but endearing commitment to his role during Monsters and Manna. A fierce protectiveness of his team, even if it manifested in unconventional ways. Shiro or not, this man had protected the paladins with his life. He hoped they could return the favor.


	3. Even the MVP Can’t Save the Game

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If you’ve read the previous two chapters before this update, I highly encourage you to go back and read them as I’ve made some major changes. 
> 
> I have good news! This fic is mostly written, it just requires heavy editing. That goes pretty quickly for me, so you can expect regular updates. I’m aiming for once a week. 
> 
> This thing has turned into a beast and I have no idea how long it will be, but I’m enjoying it. Plus, I’m drafting a sequel, so it’s going to be a series. Yeah. Senior year is tough but I love writing when school isn’t burying me alive.
> 
> Onward!

“That's the trouble with hope. It's hard to resist.”  
— The Doctor

 

“Once you are able to find answers from Shiro, contact us on the bridge right away,” said Allura. “I don’t need to remind you that we are on a timetable.”  
  
“Understood,” replied Keith from the ramp of the Black Lion. Krolia and the wolf flanked the princess as they watched Keith ascend.    
  
“We’ll look after him,” assured Krolia.    
  
Allura nodded at the Galran briskly, then spun on her heel and dashed out of the hangar. She hadn’t been able to contact Shiro, and she hoped Keith could find his way back to the astral plane. Her thoughts raced a mile a minute and a knot of dread formed in her stomach.   
  
_What if this doesn’t work,_  she thought, feet pounding on the metal floor. There were too many things going on and too many options to consider. Her thoughts crowded together as she rounded a corner. Allura focused on the rhythm of her run and just breathed. The teal emergency lights and her armor guided her through the maze of hallways to the bridge.  
  
Everyone was counting on her. Always. The coalition, the team, their new friends. All of them believed she could do this. Even when she doubted herself.  
  
Allura jogged to a stop outside the door to the bridge. She took a deep breath in, then let it out in a whoosh, just like her combat instructors taught her. No time to hesitate now.

The door whirred open and she found the other paladins and Coran peering cautiously into the pod. Allura put her commander face on and marched over.

  
“All right, let’s get him out quickly. We need him right under the crystal,” she directed. Coran deactivated the force field, and the two Alteans hefted the limp form. Lance steadied the head and Pidge grabbed the ankles as they lowered Not-Shiro onto the platform. Allura gazed at his face. It was ever so slightly pinched, as if in pain.   
  
“So um, what if we’re wrong about this and he tries to hurt us again?” asked Hunk, tapping his fingers together. Allura wondered at the change of heart, until she noticed where he was standing. It was near spot were the clone had first attacked.

  
“Keith did say he regained control,” said Allura evenly, “but just to be safe, have your bayards out.”   
  
The distinctive sounds of bayards being summoned gave her a little relief, but she dearly hoped it wasn’t necessary. Allura stood over Not-Shiro near the crown of his head.   
  
“Here goes nothing,” she whispered. She spread her arms and reached out to the crystal, gathering energy. She felt the clone’s mangled quintessence and prepared to amplify his life force. She breathed. Deep, still, calm. The charge tingled in every fiber of her body, and she let herself be filled with the crystal’s Balmeran life force.

  
Then, she knelt and cradled his head. The blue glow transferred to him and the black holes disappeared under a bright wave of light. He glowed as if he was a crystal himself. Allura  _pushed,_ willing the tattered quintessence to mend.

Too soon, it was over. Allura rocked back on her heels and steadied herself. The others leaned in and stood motionless in anticipation.

  
And his eyes snapped open.

___________________

 

A gasp punched out of him like he’d been held underwater. He coughed raggedly and listed to the side. A metallic thunk signaled contact with the floor.   
  
Everything rushed back. The realization, falling, then nothing. Arms looped under his remaining arm and pulled him upright. He leaned into something hard and squinted an eye open. A blue “V.”  
  
_Voltron_  
  
His head whipped around to take in the paladins gazing at him with varying degrees of wonder and wariness. He was back on the bridge!

  
“You’re- you’re alive!” he breathed, nearly choking on relief. Lance supported him as Allura appeared at his side. Pidge and Hunk stood a short distance away, and Coran approached with a holoscreen.  
  
_Wait_.  
  
“Where’s Keith?!!” he yelped, jerking upright, a spike of alarm shooting through his heart. 

_Please no, he can’t be-_  
  
“He’s fine!” soothed Lance, adjusting his grip. “He’s in the Black Lion right now, trying to connect to Shiro’s spirit.”  
  
“Shiro’s- oh.” The bottom of his stomach went out, and he slumped into Lance’s hold. The ensuring silence was tense. Hunk shuffled his feet, and Pidge stared him down like she could peel away his outer layers to reveal his secrets with the force of her gaze alone. He hung his head so he wouldn’t have to look at the others. His heart raced as he searched for an explanation. Where did he even start??

  
“I didn’t- how- how am I...?” he began, stuttering out partial questions.  
  
“Let me explain,” offered Allura, kneeling next to him. “I performed something like the Balmera rejuvenation ceremony. We weren't sure it would work, and we must scan to be sure.” She turned her head to Coran, who knelt in front of him.  
  
“May I?” the advisor asked. He felt his head bob automatically. As Coran preformed a scan, he shifted his gaze from paladin to paladin.  
  
“I-why? Why even bother at all?” he whispered. Allura’s eyebrows pinched in distress.   
  
“We are not Haggar,” she said firmly. “We would not do anything to you without your consent.”  
  
That still didn’t answer his question, but he was touched nonetheless.  
  
”How did you survive? That virus...”  
  
“Pidge had it. Just barely,” assured Lance with a smile. He glanced back at Pidge, who finally dropped her gaze and folded her arms.   
  
“Oh,” he said. “I...I’m glad.” Pidge just turned away. He closed his eyes and pushed down a wave of guilt.  
  
“Hey, it’s not your fault,” said Lance, squeezing his arm. “If anyone should be apologizing, it’s me. I didn’t take you seriously enough when you said you didn’t feel like yourself.”  
  
“There’s nothing to be sorry for,” he sighed. “I’m glad you’re all ok. And I’m so, so sorry…!” His voice hitched and his throat burned.   
  
“Shiro-“ Allura started, then glanced to the side. “I mean...”  
  
“We need a name for you,” prompted Lance with a nudge, trying to cheer him up. A broken little laugh hiccuped out of his chest.

  
“One that’s not Shiro, I know,” he rasped. “That’s the real one’s name.”   
  
”You are real,” admonished Lance. He looked up at Lance’s compassionate eyes. Not-Shiro was struck by the reversal of the situation from the siege of the castle. He remembered cradling Lance perfectly, even if that wasn’t really him that did it.

  
“I feel like Shiro,” he admitted. “But I’m not. It...It makes a lot of sense now, given what happened. I...I don’t know…”   
  
”Hey man, we’ll figure it out,” comforted Hunk, stepping into view. “It’s ok to be confused right now.”   
  
Not-Shiro just sank into Lance’s arms, pressing his face into the hard, cold shoulder plate. After the initial relief that the team was safe, he didn’t know what to feel through the empty chasm expanding in his chest. He wasn’t real. He was a clone. His only purpose here was to be a weapon to hurt them.

  
“Coran, what does the scan tell us?” asked Allura, sensing the need for a distraction.   
  
“This one serves as a baseline. The results seem promising, but I need to do another in a moment to see if there’s any difference,” informed Coran. He looked up at Not-Shiro, blue light from the screen reflected on his face.  
  
“How are you my boy? Are you in any pain?,” inquired Coran. “Keith said there was a fight.”   
  
Not-Shiro did feel a bit lightheaded, but a burning question was on his mind.   
  
”Is he...ok?” he asked. He remembered the blade from his parasite arm searing flesh and Keith’s feral howl of pain. The terror in his heart contrasted with the urge to  _kill, kill, kill._ Then fireworks behind his skull as the black bayard sliced through metal and wire.   
  
Coran lifted a finger to reply, then paused. “Come to think of it, he was avoiding medical care. I’ll have to check on that,” Coran muttered, disgruntled.

_ Typical Keith,  _ Not-Shiro thought with a bitter wave of fondness. Another bout of dizziness hit and he lifted a hand to his forehead with a grunt.

  
“What is it?” Lance prompted, filling his vision.

  
”Ugh, my head,” he grumbled. Four paladins snapped to attention and Lance stiffened, ready to bolt. A knife to the chest would have been kinder than the fear that flooded his eyes.

“Nonono, not like the headaches,” he clarified. He felt Lance deflate in relief. Coran lifted the scanner once more, grim.

  
”Then what is it?” asked Allura, brushing away his bangs.   
  
“I’m not…” he trailed off and slumped. He felt weightless as Lance and Allura supported him as he sank to the floor. The crystal started to swim in his vision, and he felt like he was floating a few feet above his body.

  
“What’s wrong?” asked Hunk meekly. Not-Shiro scrunched his eyes shut.   
  
_Too bright._  
  
“I don’t feel so good,” he muttered. Then, horrifyingly, he lurched to the side and emptied his stomach. It was a small mercy it missed the princess. 

_ Well, there goes my pride if I had any at this point. _

  
Hunk scurried to his chair and grabbed an emergency motion sickness container from one of the hidden compartments. Allura touched his temples and Coran initiated another scan.  
  
“It’s draining,” she said, despair radiating off her in waves. Coran nodded in confirmation.  
  
“No,” whispered Lance.  
  
Fog descended on his mind, and their voices started to fade in and out. Something was poking him.  _Where was he again?_  
  
”Hey!” Lance’s voice permeated the fog.  
  
”M’here,” he muttered.

_Right, the bridge. The Balmera crystal..._  
  
“Listen carefully,” said Allura, “I am so sorry it didn’t work. It is as we feared, you cannot hold on to quintessence. It’s draining out of you, faster than I anticipated.”  
  
“Wha’ now?” he asked.  _Was the ship moving?_  
  
“There is another option, but we wanted to ask you first,” began Allura, putting a hand to his cheek. It was grounding. The details were hard to focus on, but essentially, she wanted to know his opinion on transferring Shiro’s spirit to his body…?  
  
“In order to transfer the quintessence, you would have to be alive,” finished Allura, gazing down at him in sorrow.

  
“So...?” he asked. He felt Lance put a hand on his arm. Oh hey Hunk and Pidge were there too.   
  
“It would be a completely unique experience. You would give up your individuality to become one person,” clarified Allura, eyes boring into him, willing him to understand the gravity of that choice. A bitter huff escaped him.   
  
“Doesn't matter. We’re idennical,” he slurred. He heard Pidge take a sharp breath. Barely having time to puzzle over that, a beep sounded from Allura’s gauntlet. Distracted from staring at him in dismay, she pulled up a screen.  
  
“Keith,” she greeted. He held his breath.  
  
“I’ve made contact with Shiro,” Keith said.

Something inside him crumbled to dust. Like someone had ripped out the core of his being. Given the witch’s meddling, that probably wasn’t too far-fetched.

It hurt, but he knew he had to make things right. The team was safe. Haggar failed. They should get their real Shiro back.   
  
”Shiro said he’s ok with the complications of the transfer if the clone is,” Keith continued.   
  
“Shoul’ put real Shiro back,” he insisted. Allura’s distraught, jeweled eyes returned to him and she placed a hand on his armored shoulder.

  
“You are real,” she admonished, echoing Lance.  
  
“Wasss created t’ hurt you,” he argued. Pidge made another unhappy noise.  
  
”No you protected us. Helped us,” countered Lance. “You were part of the team.”  
  
“And you were forced to hurt us,” defended Hunk, kneeling.  
  
His head sank back, too heavy to hold up. The circle of faces above him blurred. What place did a broken replacement have on the team? This was the only thing he could offer now.

  
“Stole his life...making...thingss righ’,” he muttered. A bone-deep weariness settled on him.   
  
“Look, you are your own person,” Lance insisted with a squeeze.  “Shiro was just a start, but how that Haggar isn’t controlling you...”

Not-Shiro shook his head feebly. Lance grunted in frustration, brows furrowing and mouth pulling down.

  
”We need to get him back into the pod,” Allura said, barely above a whisper.  
  
“Allura, can you do the crystal thing again?” pleaded Lance desperately.  
  
“Don’t,” he interrupted. “M’ not a rechargeable battery.” He chuckled.  
  
“I wasn’ suppos to exist,” he continued. “Didn’ hav to bring me back. You did. Thank you.” Tears slid out of the corners of his eyes of their own volition. Struggling, he opened his eyes again to take in their blurry forms.  
  
“Glad...you’re ok. Proudovv you…” Lance gave a watery laugh.  
  
“And this is the stuff that convinces me you’re real,” Lance whispered. With a sad smile, Not-Shiro leaned his forehead onto Lance’s leg and closed his eyes. It felt like he was sinking back under water again. Someone nudged him again.

  
“Hey,” Lance’s voice wobbled. “Hey! We haven’t...name yet...can’t go...!” Not-Shiro squinted to see tears streaming from azure eyes. His lids feel shut again as the world spun. It’s a shame they got attached to him.   
  
“...back in the pod before he fades completely,” said Allura. She appeared at his side. “We’re going to lift you, is that all right?” 

They were still asking for consent, even now. Gratitude bloomed in his heart, and he nodded weakly. As Coran looped his arms under his knees, he summoned the last of strength to give them a soft look.  
  
_I love you._  
  
_…I’ll miss you._  
  
His eyes drifted to Allura’s gauntlet. Keith’s absence stung, but he understood. He wasn’t the person the Red Paladin wanted. A wail resounded from the depths of his heart, but he quashed it.  
  
“Keith,” he breathed.

  
It was less bitter without the taste of terror this time. It was enough.   
  
And he drowned.

 

_____________________

 

Not-Shiro went completely limp. The Alteans snatched him up and bundled him into the pod. It whirred to life to show the clone barely holding on to his. It was so quiet they heard the mice approaching. They gave a sad chitter and scurried to Allura’s shoulders. The princess looked like she’d been turned into stone, and Coran placed his hand on her back.  
  
“Well, we got our answer,” whispered Lance shakily. The clone had looked so young and helpless. He folded his arms in a self-hug.  
  
“Yes,” said Allura, solemn. “We must move quickly in order to fulfill his wish.” Pidge stood off to the side, clenching and unclenching her hands. Hunk went comfort the tech genius, but Pidge moved before he could finish the gesture. She sprinted out of the hangar faster than when the teleduv was shutting down.  
  
”Pidge?” called Hunk. Coran followed her at a more sedate pace.  
  
”I’ll go after her,” he offered. “You all head down to the Black Lion’s hangar.”  
  
”We can’t put him in stasis?” asked Lance, gesturing to the pod.   
  
“We will respect his wishes and put Shiro in. We must hurry.” Allura intoned. Repeating herself, like a mantra. Trying to keep her sanity.   
  
“He didn’t even get a name,” whispered Lance, staring into space.   
  
Allura pushed the pod toward the door, Hunk and Lance trailing after.   
  
“We gave him closure and all, but I- I just wish…” stuttered Hunk, tears forming in his eyes.  
  
“- We could do better for him,” Lance finished, voice rough and lips pressed into a thin line. The door hissed open as they marched out of the bridge.  
  
What should have been Shiro’s rescue mission carried all the jubilance of a funeral procession.


	4. The Scientific Method

“Every solution to every problem is simple. It's the distance between the two where the mystery lies.”   
― Derek Landy

 

“Citizens of the Galra Empire, I wish to inform you that as it stands, Voltron has withdrawn its support from the inter-reality gate project,” proclaimed Lotor over a holoscreen. “However, our venture into the rift was successful! We gained access to the quintessence field and managed to obtain samples of the pure energy that resides there.”

 

“Due to our differences, Voltron has destroyed the gate and their intentions toward the empire at this point are unknown. However, I assure you we will continue our efforts to achieve unlimited quintessence! Let it be known that any act against the reconstruction efforts will be severely punished. If Voltron interferes again, they along with their precious Coalition, will be crushed,” the prince finished with bravado.

 

Axca ended the recording. “I’ll send this out to our generals and the Coaltion,” she informed.

 

“Well then,” commented Ezor, sidling up to Axca, “Voltron should definitely get the warning. Stay away from our gate this time!”

 

“Shame, I’d love to crush them,” sighed Zethrid. Lotor turned to them with a smile.

 

“It’s a pity we have lost such a valuable ally, but let’s not dwell on such things right now,” he suggested. “I ordered a meal to be waiting for us in the dining hall.”

 

“All right, food!” whooped Zethrid, pumping her fists.

 

“Yeah, prison food was no fun,” complained Ezor, hand up in a half-shrug, “and I don’t think the witch even eats!” They exited the communications room and journeyed down the winding hallways of Galra HQ.

 

“I’ll meet you there,” Lotor said, mood sour at the mention of Haggar. “I have something to check on first.” He turned toward his lab as the generals continued down the hall, chatting. As soon as they were out of sight, Lotor picked up his pace. His breaths came out in short pants and he shivered.

 

The door to his lab whooshed open as he entered. The low purple lighting activated as he stepped onto the circular platform in the middle. A glowing canister of quintessence shone there, and Lotor approached it like a moth to flame.

 

Tremors ran through his body and he lifted a hand to his forehead. It came away damp with sweat.

 

_This wasn’t getting any better,_ he thought. People would start noticing soon. Nausea churned in his stomach and he considered skipping a meal. But first...

 

He pressed his hands against the glass and sighed as the residual quintessence seeped into his skin and soothed the hungry beast scratching under the surface. He wanted to sink his claws in and get a real taste, but even he recognized this was dangerous. They needed it to run tests with the sample, and it needed to be un-tampered with.

 

His ear twitched as footsteps sounded outside the door. Reluctantly, he pulled his hands away. At least they were no longer shaking. That was enough for now.

 

Lotor turned to his screen and tapped away as Axca appeared in the doorway.

 

“Lotor?” she called.

 

“Yes Axca, I’m coming down,” Lotor said, appearing pleasant. He followed her out the door and it hissed shut.

 

_This could be a problem,_ Lotor thought as they marched through the halls. He knew based on Hoverna’s notes and his own research that exposure to quintessence had potential adverse effects. However, he hadn’t anticipated them manifesting in such a persistent manner.

 

_What if they are happening to the princess as well..._ he thought, a frown twitching on his lips.

 

“Sir,” began Axca quietly, “I’ve been meaning to ask. About the witch…”

 

_(Lotor...my son.)_

 

The prince scowled at the memory.  _That abomination that wore Honerva’s skin had no right-!_

 

“It’s all right Axca,” he said evenly. “Any actions under the witch’s command were in align with our plans. You did a marvelous job. Well done.”

 

Axca tilted her head. She recognized a diversion and practically brimmed with curiosity, but smile formed on her mouth at the praise.

 

“Thank you, Lotor,” was all she said.

 

Ezor’s head popped out of the dining hall. “Did you find him? Oh hi! Come on in!” she rambled, ushering them in. “It’s kind of like the one on your ship. You know, before it was destroyed. Headquarters is better though! The servants actually dodge when we throw things.”

 

Though Lotor acknowledged her joke, he sensed she was trying to fill the awkward silence. The air crackled with unresolved tension. He picked up on the furtive glances Ezor and Zethrid shared, as if they were trying to gauge him.

 

As they took their seats, Lotor considered his options. There was a lot to be addressed if he wanted to keep their support. Axca interrupted his musings by clearing her throat.

 

“Sir, just so you know, Honvera-“ she began, but Lotor cut her off crisply.

 

“Haggar.”

 

“...Haggar contacted headquarters earlier,” she corrected, not missing a beat. “The witch requested to speak with you.”

 

“Request denied,” said Lotor flatly. “If she ever contacts us again, I want you to track her location.”

 

“Understood,” said the general. The click of the servants’ feet signaled the approach of their meal.

 

“All right!” celebrated Zethrid as the platters were laid out. The servants quickly vacated the premises, glancing nervously at Ezor and Zethrid.

 

“Great, we can eat now that everyone’s here” Zethrid grunted impatiently. She grabbed her utensils and started to dig in. Lotor took a deep breath and folded his hands of the table.

 

_It was now or never._

 

“All except for Narti.”

 

The generals froze. They all glanced at each other, unsure of how to respond. Lotor sighed.

 

_No going back now._

 

“Before we move on, I feel I should try to explain,” he ventured. The generals set down their cutlery and straightened.

 

“We’re listening,” assured Axca, folding her arms on the table. They all gave him varying looks of curiosity, fear, and distrust. Lotor looked at the table, then gave a weak laugh.

 

“What's so funny?” Ezor demanded, accusation seeping into her tone.

 

“I apologize, I just realized that team Voltron appears to be going through something similar,” Lotor explained.

 

“What, the thing with the Black Paladin?” guessed Ezor. “Wait, Narti was a clone???”  she exclaimed, eyes wide and slapping her hands on the table.

 

“I think he’s trying to say controlled,” Axca corrected.

 

“Thank you, Axca,” confirmed Lotor, standing. He squared his shoulders and folded his arms behind his back.

 

“For as long as I can remember, the witch has shadowed me. It is unfortunate that when she found something underhanded enough, I didn’t catch it until it was too late. Back on the ship, I…” Lotor closed his eyes. “...I thought Narti had sold us out. It was the only possible explanation then.” He opened his eyes to see the generals were not mutinous but listening.

 

_Promising._ He continued.

 

“Now that team Voltron’s situation has shed light on the situation, I realized I was...incorrect in my assumption. All I know for certain is that Haggar could see through Narti’s eyes. Clever choice as she didn’t have any. Whether she was controlled or unaware of Haggar’s influence is mere speculation.” Lotor took a seat once again and placed his hands on the table.

 

“I deeply regret what happened...and that I didn’t explain myself right away to all of you. I know this does not change the past, but I hope we can move forward.”

 

After a brief pause, a chair scraped.

 

“We stand with you, Lotor,” Axca declared, on her feet. Lotor smiled but waited. It was easier for Axca because she knew his plan all along. He’d only had to deceive the other two for it to work. Haltingly, Ezor rose as well.

 

“I...I’m not ok with Narti being gone,” she admitted, eyes not lifting from the table and her bat-like ears drooping, “but I understand now.” Zethrid stood.

 

“We forgive you,” she said shortly, arms crossed. Then, she put a hand on Ezor’s shoulder.

 

“Thank you, Zethrid, Ezor. I know Narti’s loss weighs on us all,” said Lotor. Then, with an edge to his voice, he continued.

 

“I have been informed that Haggar has been attempting to contact the facility. Let it be known that she is a traitor and a price will be put on her head.”

 

“Ok,” said Zethrid, nodding and pounding a fist to her palm. “Yeah, she needs to pay, totally.”

 

“True,” muttered Ezor, eyeing him sideways, “But isn’t she your…?”

 

“ _No_.” The walls frosted over at the sheer  _hate_ that softly spoken word carried. The generals exchanged brief glances; eyes wide.

 

“Right...you said that,” muttered Ezor, twitching.

 

“No, I have no familial sentiment for that hag,” Lotor clarified, gentler.

 

“We understand now,” assured Axca, taking her seat again.

 

A genuine smile spread unbidden across Lotor’s face. As they dug in, Lotor felt the weight of the conversation drift away. Changing the subject, Ezor wondered,

 

“Whatever did happen to that clone anyway? Last time I saw him, he took off in that ship to lead the other paladin away.”

 

“Considering the hurry the castle left in,” mused Lotor, “they must have gone to save the Black Paladin.”

 

“Could they?” asked Ezor, curious. “Save the clone? You know, get whatever Haggar did out?” Lotor tilted his head. He knew she was really asking if they could have helped Narti.

 

“If they meant to save the clone, their quest was in vain,” said Lotor gently. “The witch’s work can never be undone. She is too meticulous and possessive of her creations.”

 

A solemn silence descended. A burp sounded and Zethrid covered her mouth.  

 

“Sorry,” she apologized. After a pause, she added, “It’s good, you should try it.” Lotor took a bite obligingly, despite the churning in his stomach.

 

“So um, I heard you flew into a sun to get away from Zarkon. Is that true?” inquired Ezor.

 

_This again?_ Lotor thought. A smile twitched on his face.  _Oh well, there could be worse rumors._

 

“Not *into* a sun per say…” he began, gesturing with his spork.

 

As they shared their tales of being on the run, something settled in Lotor’s chest. It wasn’t like being home, but it was the closest thing he ever experienced to it. Something familiar in the madness his life had become. At least he could hold onto that.

 

__________________

 

Black’s mouth whirred open as Keith stumbled down the ramp, disguising his limp. Shiro had seemed less substantial after speaking with him, and he worried. The wolf trotted up to his side, and he gratefully accepted the support as he approached the entourage. Allura parked the pod near the snout as Black’s mouth whirred shut.

 

Keith scanned the hangar. Lance and Hunk stood by the pod, still as scarecrows. Pidge and Coran were nowhere to be found.

 

“Are you ready, Allura?” he asked, taking in the princess. Her dull eyes flickered and she straightened regally.

 

“Yes,” she lied.

 

Keith peered into the pod at the clone. He placed a hand on the force field one last time. They were getting Shiro back, but at what cost? Torn, Keith trailed his hand across the force field, watching the ripples. Despite all they’d done, it still felt like failure.

 

“Goodbye,” he whispered.

 

By unspoken agreement, they all had a moment of silence. Krolia put a hand on Keith’s shoulder, Hunk and Lance put an arm around each other, and Allura stroked the space mice.

 

Eventually, Allura let the furry creatures down and stepped over to the pod.

 

“Keith,” she rasped, eyes red, “I need you to deactivate the force field when I am ready to put Shiro in. The less time without life support the better.”

 

“Understood,” said Keith quietly. He turned the pod so that the head was closer to the Black Lion and stood at attention, ignoring the screaming in his muscles. He subtly leaned against the pod. He would take care of this soon. Shiro came first.

 

Allura straightened and marched to the Lion with a determined set to her shoulders. The team formed a circle around the pod and watched her. Reverently, Allura reached up to the snout, breathed deeply, and closed her eyes.

 

A rush of air whipped her hair around as the Black Lion reared up out of reach. Everyone stumbled back as the cacophony of metal clanking echoed through the hangar. The Lion uttered a low growl.

 

“What is it?” Allura demanded, confused. “We are trying to help!”

 

“Wait!!” hollered Pidge. The team whirled around to see her dashing through the hangar. Coran followed close behind, pushing something on a hoverboard.

 

“Pidge!” called Lance. “Where were you?” Hunk approached the object on the hoverboard as it came to a halt.

 

“Hey isn’t that a memory containment unit? Like the one we used on Sendak?” Hunk asked, reflection distorted from the glass.

 

“Yes,” panted Pidge. “We may not be able to give him a body, but we can preserve his memories. The memories themselves are separate from quintessence, so we can still merge Shiro with the body. But this way, we can find another option for...the other guy.”

 

“Pidge, that’s genius!” praised Allura, hope filling her eyes.

 

“It’s the least I could do,” said Pidge quietly. Coran put a hand on her shoulder. Allura’s brows furrowed in confusion, and Lance leaned down, trying to read her.

 

“Soo, why the change of heart?” prompted Hunk. Pidge shuffled to the pod and put a hand on it.

 

“When you all were trying to reassure him, he kept denying everything you said. And he used the exact same arguments I did,” she said softly. She held up a finger, ticking them off. “He tried to hurt us, he’s identical to Shiro, and he stole Shiro’s life.” Pidge let her hand fall, then crossed her arms.

 

“It was more abstract to talk about when he was unconscious in a pod. But seeing him say it...I don’t know.” She gestured helplessly. “I’m used to more tangible problems like physics and coding. Not...this. And I don’t think we convinced him of what we were trying to tell him,” Pidge finished.

 

“Why do you say that?” asked Hunk, puzzled. “We tried to tell him that he was a person like a million times.”

 

“We basically woke him up and asked him if he was ok with giving his body and memories to Shiro,” Pidge summarized, adjusting her glasses. The team cringed. Yeah, that’s kind of what happened, even if they did it in the gentlest way possible.

 

“Well, if we do the memory transfer, how long would it take?” asked Hunk. “With Sendak it took almost a whole day, and he may not have that long.”

 

“Not long,” reassured Coran. “When we did it on Sendak, he was an unwilling participant. However, this lad already consented to giving his memories to Shiro. That should make the process easy. Thirty dobashes to a varga at most.”

 

“Ok, but what will we do with the memories after?” wondered Lance, looking uneasy.

 

“We’d need a way to talk to him,” said Pidge. “I was thinking we could put him in King Alfor’s A.I. chamber as a temporary solution. Then, based on his input, we could try to find another clone. Or! We build him an android,” she finished excitedly.

 

“Those all sound like viable options” said Allura, hands clasped together. She hesitated, brows furrowing. “He did specifically say not to revive him though.” Pidge cut off her musing about disrespecting Not-Shiro’s wishes.

 

“This wasn’t an option before,” countered Pidge.

 

“Also technically he said not to revive him a la Balmera crystal,” Hunk pointed out. “This is different.”

 

“I don’t know guys…” muttered Lance, rubbing his head. “It won’t be like bringing him back to life, would it? He...wouldn’t be human, technically. And no offense Pidge, but especially if we go the android route.”

 

“Well we don’t have time for a crash course in A.I. and personhood,” said Pidge sardonically, “But basically it’s agreed that when artificial intelligence becomes self-aware, it should be treated like a person. He’s already self-aware and already a person, so I don’t see the problem.”

 

“That’s not the point!” rejected Lance, letting his hand fall from his head. “This is taking part of his humanity away!”

 

“Look, I’m not saying it’s ideal,” soothed Pidge. “It’s just a way to buy as more time. The android is only a backup if our search of the cloning facility comes up short. And hey, I thought you were the one who said he’s not a thing? We’re going to help him believe that. We can save his memories and give him another chance,” Pidge continued, gesturing at the memory capsule.

 

“I agree,” said Allura, straightening. “This route may be unprecedented, but it’s our only option at this point.

 

“We can make it work,” insisted Pidge. Lance considered, rubbing his chin.

 

“All right, I believe you,” said Lance reluctantly. “But for the record, I still think we’re messing with something we shouldn’t.”

 

“You watch too many sci-fi movies,” teased Pidge. Lance huffed and crossed his arms.

 

“Are we in agreement then?” asked Allura.

 

“Yes,” said Keith.

 

“Eh, not the strangest thing we’ve done,” shrugged Hunk.

 

“I’ll set up the transfer,” piped Coran.

 

“What about Shiro?” worried Keith. Allura turned and reached for the Black Lion’s snout.

 

“He’s still there, we have time,” she reassured.

 

______________________

 

The soft hum of the capsule filled the air while the memories transferred. Allura stood in front of the Black Lion like a sentinel, guarding Shiro’s spirit to make sure he didn’t slip away. Coran kept a hawk’s eye on the clone’s vitals during the transfer process.

 

Keith, Krolia, and the wolf hovered by the pod. The Garrison Trio hung out by a stack of crates. Pidge and Hunk pinged ideas off each other as Lance and Romelle listened intently. Lance stroked the space mice and considered how to ask his question.

 

“Ok ok, so here’s the thing I’m not getting,” Lance interrupted team Punk. “We were pretty intent on getting another clone. Why are we already planning a robot?”

 

“Well Lance,” began Pidge, “I’m frankly...not optimistic we’ll find one.”

 

“Or, if we find one, he’ll already have memories implanted and then we’re back to square one,” Hunk pointed out.

 

“Then there will be triplets!” enthused Romelle.

 

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves here,” Pidge advised, “Though that would be cool.”

 

Keith shuffled over and sat with a wince. “Yeah, the facility was pretty much destroyed. There’s not much of a chance we will find another clone.”

 

“You’re limping!” observed Lance, brows up. Keith grunted and folded his arms on his knees.

 

“I’ll be fine until the transfer is done. I’ll get in a pod once this is over,” he bargained.

 

“Fine,” said Lance. He waved his finger in the air. “And! Once you’re out of that pod, we’re getting the story of finding your mom and what happened after you went through that portal, got it?” Keith just sighed and mumbled his agreement.

 

“All right,” redirected Pidge, “so for this back up plan, I actually don’t think we should connect him to the castle. The last thing we want is another Sendak incident. Or for him to get a virus and turn into a weapon. Again.”

 

“Yeah,” agreed Hunk with a wince. “Sorry Coran, but we don’t quite trust the castle at this point.”

 

“None taken,” Coran said airily. “More strange things have happened in this castle during our journey than the entirety of time it spent on Altea! Poor old Pop-pop Wimbleton would have a fit!”

 

“So basically he would be a contained system,” continued Pidge. “We shouldn’t allow him access to the network. It might be too overwhelming, and we don’t want him to have an intelligence explosion. Oh, and we should probably regulate his speed of thought to account for human reaction time and give him the option to change it at will…” she trailed off, scribbling. Lance did a double take.

 

“Woah, is that paper in your hand?” he marveled, leaning over her.

 

“Shut up, it’s good for brainstorming,” Pidge grumbled, pushing him away. It was her notebook from earth. She’d been trying to save the pages, but this project was worthy of them.

 

Lance chewed his lip as he listened to team Punk ramble about the details of building the android.

 

“You guys seem to have the body part covered,” Lance said once he sensed a pause in the techobabble. “Will he be able to grow and change?”

 

“Yes, Lance,” Pidge didn’t quite snap.

 

“The nature of A.I. Is growth and change,” Hunk explained more patiently. “We’re not like, putting him in a box. Or programming him to be controlled. He’s not going to be a robot.”

 

“We’re leaving as much room for growth as possible without making it too disorienting to basically become one with technology,” Pidge said nonchalantly.

 

“This still doesn’t feel right” Lance sighed. “It seems cruel to deprive him of stuff he might need, you know? Like touch.”

 

Pidge considered him. Right-he was a touchy-feely guy. He probably couldn’t imagine life without it.

 

“Wow, I didn’t take you for a bio-supremist, Lance,” Pidge teased. She took off glasses to rid them of a stubborn smudge.

 

“We can give him touch sensors, you know,” she continued. “Also, before I met the Olkari, I thought robots were just gears and wires. I had a special connection to them, and now I know why. Every form of matter is connected through space time. Like Ryder said, we’re all made of the same cosmic dust.”

 

“I didn’t take you for a poet, Pidge,” Lance teased.

 

“Science is beautiful Lance,” replied Pidge, starry eyed.

 

“So,  _mi amigo,_ why don’t you tell us why you’re really so hesitant about this?” prodded Hunk.

 

“Ok, so I get that even though he’ll be a machine, he’ll be alive,” began Lance, “But what about feelings? He won’t have a brain or the...chemicals that go with them, you know?”

 

“Hmm,” Hunk hummed. “Well Lance, would you ever let one of your siblings date someone who says,” Hunk paused and put on his best ‘schmuck’ impersonation, “‘Love is just chemical reactions in the brain’?”

 

“Ew no!” exclaimed Lance. “I would *not* trust that kind of person- oooohhh. Hm.” Lance rubbed his chin. “I  _think_ I see what you’re saying...but I don’t think I get your point for this particular situation.”

 

“He’s saying that love is transcendent,” Romelle spoke up. “There are many different forms of it, and all of them are valid. Not everyone experiences the same kind. Trying to confine love to one species’ definition misses the big picture.”

 

“You get me!” Hunk crowed. Romelle looked very pleased with herself. Hunk held up his hand for a high five, and she stared at it quizzically.

 

“Huh,” said Lance, thoughtful. Hunk walked Romelle through a high-five.

 

“We won’t understand how his brain works, but that’s ok,” assured Pidge. “There have been successful A.I.’s in the past, but none of them have experienced being human before. He’s the first person to integrate with technology. It’s groundbreaking!”

 

“I’m sorry,” Lance sighed and thumped his head back on the crate, “you guys seem to know what you’re doing and I’m just here asking dumb questions.”

 

“No no!” denied Pidge. “You’re being a rubber duck. Don’t worry, it helps me think.”

 

“Oh, ok. If you say so,” muttered Lance, perking back up.

 

“What is a...duck?” asked Romelle with a tilt of her head.

 

“It’s like a duflax,” explained Pidge.

 

“Oh I see! Do they assist in solving problems on your planet?” Romelle inquired.

 

“In a manner of speaking,” Pidge fudged, not wanting to clarify. Romelle slid back on the crate, sheepish.

 

“Ok Lance,” Pidge continued, “So here’s the problem you’re trying to address. It’s likely he’ll still have human needs, like socialization and touch.” Pidge sighed.

 

“I’m...limited by my understanding in this area,” she admitted. “Not even the Alteans can explain how quintessence works. We can give him touch sensors, but that would need biotech. We’re going to need some help with this. Probably from the Olkari. And Altean magic,” Pidge muttered, insulted by the last idea.

 

“I’ve got an idea for the feelings thing,” Hunk brought up. “I have this small Balmera crystal Shay gave me. I was thinking maybe we could use it as his ‘heart.’ It would be the power source, but we could put some of our quintessence in there or something, so he can feel us. Like in Voltron!”

 

“I love it!” exclaimed Lance.

 

“Yeah, but the only one who can transfer quintessence is Allura, so I’m trying to figure that one out,” muttered Hunk. Lance ‘hmm-ed’ thoughtfully.

 

“Hey, if the goal is to connect like in Voltron,” mused Lance, “what about the training headbands?”

 

“Why didn’t I think of that? That’s a great idea, Lance!” piped Pidge. “That can tide us over until we figure the crystal thing out.”

 

“I’m curious about these headbands now,” said Romelle.

 

“Paladins,” Coran interrupted, “the memory transfer is complete!”

 

“Finally,” grunted Keith, who had been silent the entire technical exchange.

 

“We’re not ready yet though,” Lance pouted. Pidge snorted.

 

“Lance, this is going to take a lot more planning and testing before we’re ready to upload the memories. It must be *absolutely* perfect. I’m not sure I’d trust myself and Hunk to build it by ourselves. Like I said, we’ll need help from people who have much more experience with technology. And our lab is down, so…”

 

Lance slumped. The tech geniuses had worked wonders in the past, but they had a point. Nothing about building Not-Shiro a new body should be rushed. Darn, they *really* needed a name for him.

 

As Coran detached the memory capsule, Lance hauled Keith to his feet. The wolf helped him walk, and the paladins crossed the hangar to the pod.

 

“So, what’s his name?” asked Lance, referring to the wolf.

 

“He hasn’t told me yet,” replied Keith. Lance blinked.

 

_Ummm, what?_ _Before Lance could express his confusion or tease, he bumped into Hunk._

 

“Wow,” gasped Hunk, not even registering Lance, “That’s...him.”

 

Lance turned his attention to the memory containment unit. He marveled at the tangle of artificial neurons. It was strangely organic yet ethereal, pulsing with lavender light.

 

_Wow is right,_ Lance thought. He couldn’t believe that’s what a *mind* looked like.

 

“Are we ready to retrieve Shiro now?” asked Allura.

 

“I’m thinking Taka,” Lance blurted.

 

“What?” Keith blinked at the non-sequitur.

 

“For his name,” Lance clarified.

 

“Like a shortened Takashi?” asked Keith dubiously, narrowing his eyes.

 

“Hey I feel those judgmental vibes. I’ll work on it,” Lance defended, waggled fingers at him. “I want some good options or him when he wakes up.”

 

“All right, you work on names, we work on this,” said Pidge, waving her notebook.

 

“Yes Allura, we’re ready,” said Hunk, steering them back on topic.

 

Coran wheeled the precious memory container aside; and Krolia stood by it, gazing thoughtfully at the otherworldly web. Then, they all gathered around the pod again.

 

Allura approached the Black Lion for the second time. The Lion whirred down to its haunches and lowered her head. A low grow rumbled, signaling her approval. Everyone thrummed with nerves as Allura pressed her hands to the lion’s snout.

 

Veins of energy trailed down the Black Lion and seeped into the Allura’s fingertips. Her body gained a purple glow, and when she turned back, her eyes shone a blue so bright it was almost white.

 

Allura glided back to the pod and Keith deactivated the force field. She placed her hands on Shiro’s temples, and the glow engulfed him. This time, his hair faded from black to a snowy white.

 

Keith held his breath, coming to the side of the pod. The others looked on, amazed. The shining aura dissipated and Allura stepped back, gazing intently at the still form.

 

Shiro’s eyes snapped open, full of violet light. It faded to a gray-brown, and he sat up with coughing first breaths. He slumped sideways to be caught by Keith. Coran immediately scanned Shiro as his eyes fluttered open.

 

“Keith,” he rasped.

 

“Hey,” Keith said. He looked sharply at Coran, heart fluttering. He didn’t even consider checking to see if it worked. He didn’t know what he would do if this didn’t work for Shiro.

 

“You found me,” Shiro breathed in wonder.

 

“Yes,” replied Allura. “I need to check something, Shiro. Will you let me?” He nodded and closed his eyes. Keith held him tighter.

 

While Allura placed her hand on his forehead, Coran initiated a second scan.

 

“It worked!” proclaimed Allura through tears. Coran just smiled and nodded.  

 

The paladins whooped, hugged, and sobbed. The lions stood and let one collective roar. Shiro slumped completely in Keith’s grip.

 

“Rest” whispered Allura.

 

And he did.

 

_____________________

 

_Hello???_

 

It was dark, like he’d sunk to the bottom of the ocean. It was neither warm nor cold. He felt utterly weightless, and the complete lack of sound made his hackles rise. Everywhere he turned, it was black. No matter how he twisted around, he couldn’t get a sense of direction.

 

_Is this what it’s like to be dead?_ he wondered.

 

The last remembered was being surrounded by the paladins. He looked down at himself to see his form transparent, like the astral plane. This time though, there was no canopy of stars nor a lion to keep him company.

 

There! In the distance, light. As he floated closer, he could see shining orbs, faint voices emanating from them. He drifted up to one, drawn to the only thing that seemed real here.

 

A young Keith smiled back at him, golden in the desert sunset. He recoiled.

 

_Where am I??_

 

Twisting around, he soared to another orb. It held other stolen memory, this one waking up in Garrison quarantine with Iverson learning over him. He frowned in confusion.

 

He was certain he wasn’t dead. Somehow.

 

The lights swirled lazily around him, and he curled up, floating along the sea of false stars. As much as he shied away from claiming something that wasn’t his, these stolen moments were the only thing he had now. Maybe they held a clue as to what happened. He clung to the memory of mental tactics Shiro had taught himself, drifting in the silent, endless void.


	5. The Expected Answer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This one got long so I had to split it in half. 
> 
> Fun fact! I'm writing and uploading this all on mobile. I appreciate your tolerance of any errors in posting or editing.

“Blessed is he who expects nothing, for he shall never be disappointed.”

― Alexander Pope

 

The rebels answer the distress call.

 

The paladins crowded around Allura’s console in celebration and Pidge inquired after her brother.

 

“Sorry Green Paladin, he’s on assignment elsewhere,” the white-haired, blue-skinned commander informed. “We’ll message him immediately about your situation. Now, why has Voltron called for aid?”

 

“The castle is in bad shape, and we are in need of help to fix...well, everything,” admitted Allura.

 

“Say no more! We’re here to help,” the commander assured with a smile.

 

Coran opened the hangar to the Altean crafts, and the small, boxy shuttle the rebels sported landed. The residents of the castle journeyed down to greet them, Pidge excitedly informing everyone she knew the leader from her mission to find Matt. Entering the bay, Hunk gave a delighted laugh and rushed forward.

 

“I’ve never been so happy to see you!” Hunk greeted, shaking Rolo and Nyma’s hands.

 

“Looks like something serious went down,” commented Rolo in his smooth voice, taking in the haphazard arrangement of cargo in the hangar and the grease on Hunk’s hands.

 

“Yeah, that’s one way to put it,” commented Lance, sweeping in to grasp Nyma’s hand. He only gave her a half-bow, less flamboyant than his usual dramatics. Hunk suspected it was his way of ignoring the awkwardness at her presence.

 

“The entire coalition has been worried,” said Nyma, purple almond eyes shining with concern. “Lotor sent out a message saying that there was a...disagreement?”

 

“We definitely owe everyone answers,” sighed Allura, tucking a stray hair behind her ear. “Once we get the teleduv up and running again we can wormhole to Olkarion and clear things up with Coalition leaders.”

 

“Which is why I am here!” an accented voice piped up. Slav materialized right next to Coran, making the advisor freeze in a pose straight out of a baroque painting.

 

“Slav, we didn’t expect to see you here!” Allura buttered him up with her best smile.

 

“Well, I calculated that in ninety-eight point three five percent of all realities where Voltron and Lotor had a disagreement at the rift, the castle would sustain catastrophic damage!” Slav proclaimed dramatically. “Also, one of my assistants three days ago came in wearing PURPLE!! That increases the chances of a deadly explosion by forty-three point six two percent! I was NOT chancing that!!!” Slav exclaimed, sinking to his knees.

  

“So you’ve been travelling for three days?” clarified Lance.

 

“Yes. Thankfully we were close enough to make the journey without a wormhole, but it still took a while to get to you,” the captain informed.

 

“Well we’re glad you’re here,” interrupted Pidge, trying to derail Slav from another meltdown. “Is there anything you need to begin?”

 

“Only for you to lead the way to the teleduv!” replied the ferret-like alien, slapping his tail on the ground and leaping up. Team Punk and Coran absconded with the super-genius as the rest of the paladins finished greeting their allies.

 

“Maybe we should keep him away from the paladin’s quarters,” Keith whispered to Lance. 

“Slav?” replied Lance. “Oh yeah, Shiro.  _Definitely_ keep him away.”

 

__________________

 

The team’s excitement about Shiro’s return had waned significantly. No one had been able to speak with him. He locked himself in his room and slept almost constantly. He sometimes got confused about his surroundings or who he was. Shiro would stare at a wall for hours, and Keith was the only one whose presence didn’t set him off during those episodes.

 

The slightest sound upset him, and Hunk learned the hard way when he accidently dropped a tray of food. Shiro had whimpered, curled in on himself, and refused to respond to anyone for hours. When he did eat, he did so automatically, if at all.

 

The paladins wanted to express their sympathy, but Keith said it would be better to give him space for now. They would catch Shiro up on a “good day” in the future. Understanding but frustrated, the paladins had thrown themselves into castle repairs until the rebels showed up.

 

_________________

 

The table in the dining room was completely full for once, and Hunk brought out the best dish he could make with their limited ingredients. Naturally, everyone proclaimed it to be delicious. Coran estimated the castle would be ready to wormhole within two quintants with the extra labor. Everyone gave a cheer, and Keith left to bring some food to Shiro. Hunk hoped that this time, the tray would come back empty.

 

During the commotion of the communal meal, Allura pulled the rebel leader aside.

 

“I hate to ask this of you,” the princess began,”but there is something incredibly important we must do. We could not abandon the castle in such a vulnerable state, but now that you’re here, would you watch over the ship while we make a detour with Voltron?”

 

“You can count on us, princess,” the commander assured, adjusting his green cap. His smile faded a bit. “May I ask what it’s for?”

 

“I’m afraid I can’t tell you that. It is a matter of utmost secrecy. We must find answers for ourselves, and to have something to report to Coalition leaders once we arrive.” Allura pressed her lips together. She hated being dishonest, but the team had decided to keep Not-Shiro’s situation under tight wraps.

 

“I understand, princess,” the leader responded, saluting. “We’ll take good care of the castle. Good luck to you all!”

 

“Thank you, and be sure to contact us if you need backup,” reassured Allura.

 

________________

 

Once dinner was over, Allura shared her plan. The team wasted no time in suiting up and heading to the zip lines. The paladins formed Voltron and sped across the galactic quadrant. It wasn’t a wormhole, but it was the next best thing.

 

Keith directed them to an enormous asteroid that circled a white, barren planet. Giant metal tubes stuck out from the underside of a cavern, showcasing severe damage. Voltron disbanded and the lions landed outside of the mouth of a cave. The paladins followed Keith through the darkness until they came upon a door with a glowing symbol of the Galra empire.

 

“This is it,” said Keith.

 

They summoned their bayards and squeezed through. They combed the upper levels, Pidge downloading any information she could find. The others busted into abandoned rooms, shining their gauntlet flashlights in.

 

They gleaned room after room, but no Shiro-clones were to be found. Just lonely dust motes and medical supplies. Hunk uncovered a room that held a table with ghastly looking equipment hovering above it. He hustled away before his overactive imagination supplied an image of a certain someone *on* the table.

 

“Ugh, this place gives me the creeps,” complained Lance, voice tinny over the comms.

 

“At least there aren’t any signs of a raid,” observed Hunk, trying to distract himself from the eerie atmosphere. “I don’t think anyone’s been here since you, Keith.”

 

“Maybe,” Keith’s voice sounded over the comms. “We should finish up here. I don’t think this is where Haggar kept the clones. Be careful heading down to the lower levels.”

 

“We never did get that story of what happened here,” Lance said, slightly accusatory. Keith sighed.

 

“I know I keep putting it off, but we’ve been busy. There was a fight. The structures got damaged. That’s all you need to know,” Keith said matter-of-factly.

 

Lance huffed, but concern nagged at the back of his brain. He wondered if part of the reason Keith didn’t want to tell them was because...well, because what happened here was bad™ and Keith didn’t like remembering. For once, Lance decided not to press.

 

They ended up flying the lions around the underside of the facility as it was nearly un-transversable. After a thorough bit of scanning, spacewalking, and digging with the lion’s claws, they decided to move on to the planet's surface. Pidge calculated the largest area that the tubes were likely to fall and assigned everyone zones.

 

Then began a long, grueling search.

 

_I would not want to be stuck on this planet,_ Hunk thought. The landscape was filled with sharp, craggy rocks and dunes built from gray and white sand. The shockingly cold temperature threatened life, as did the atmosphere that held a dangerous amount of CO2.

 

Each Lion dropped a series of Altean B.L.I.P. tech devices to scan for bio-signatures. Hunk flew back and forth over his zone, like a printer covering a sheet of paper.

 

He toggled through the various layers of the scan during his rounds. First was for quintessence signatures, which came up blank. The second was for non-sentient life forms, which included plants. Or, as they were hoping, clones with no memories.

 

It also came up blank.

 

“Anything so far?” Pidge checked in.

 

“Nothing,” Hunk responded. And idea occurred to him, and he toggled the screen again, searching for any organic matter period. This time, dots appeared all over the map.

 

All of them came up partial.

 

“Uhh guys, I think I’m gonna-” Hunk began, then forced back a gag.

 

“Are you guys seeing this?” Lance asked, horror seeping through his tone. Apparently, he had the same idea.

 

“Yes,” replied Keith, grim. “I would...recommend skipping the video feed.”

 

“Keep looking,” Allura ordered with an equally distressed pitch, “There might be some that made it.”

 

They each completed their zones, and then searched the land beyond Pidge’s calculated perimeter, just in case.

 

At the end of the day, Voltron came home empty-handed.

 

__________________

 

Keith sat back in the pilot’s seat pulled off his helmet with a sigh.

 

Even from the safety of Black’s cockpit, he could picture the metal structures where he struggled against a version of his friend who wanted to murder him. A minute tremble ran through his hands as memories of Not-Shiro grinning and annihilating everything in his path surged to the forefront of his mind. Keith scrubbed over his eyes and stood up.

 

He had always demanded that Shiro never hold back with him during spars. Now, he never wanted to be on the receiving end of that ferocity again. Black pushed against the back of his skull, like a cat demanding attention. A purr rumbled behind his forehead.

 

“Thanks Black,” he whispered, anxiety abating a bit. Keith tucked the helmet under his arm and descended to the main hangar that fit all the Lions. The others were waiting for him in a circle.

 

“So what now?” mumbled Lance once Keith arrived. Keith took in the defeated set to everyone’s posture.

 

“We rest,” he suggested. “We’ve had a tough few days.”

 

“I second that,” piped Coran, approaching the group with Krolia. “You do yourself and everyone else no favors by running yourself thin.”

 

“Coran, how are repairs going?” asked Allura, changing the subject. No doubt she wanted to purge the memory of the absolute  _waste_ of life they had witnessed.

 

“Quite well! The teleduv should be up and running by tomorrow,” Coran informed, hands proudly on his hips. If he noticed their discouragement, he didn’t comment on it. Krolia made eye contact with Keith. He shook his head once. She put and hand on his shoulder and squeezed.

 

“Excellent. Perhaps we should convene in the lounge and play a game,” the princess seconded wearily.

 

“I don’t know,” Hunk yawned, “I’m pretty tired after all that searching.”

 

“It might be the only chance we have for a while,” Lance pointed out. “Once the teleduv is working, we’re off to Olkarion and then we’ve got Coaltion stuff there.” He folded his arms.

 

“And I don’t know about you guys,” he continued with a shudder, “but I don’t want to be alone after...that.”

 

Keith gripped his helmet tighter, images of the grisly close-ups flashing through his mind. In unspoken agreement, the team migrated to the lounge. Romelle joined them along the way, as did Slav.

 

Allura looked down to see the genius sidling up to her. Slav glanced at Keith, who turned toward the paladin’s quarters to check in with Shiro. Then, once Keith was out of sight, Slav addressed Allura.

 

“I couldn’t help but overhear that the former Black Paladin is without his robot arm,” he began in a whisper.

 

“How did you find that out?” demanded Allura quietly. Her hackles rose. Ally or not, she didn’t appreciate snooping aboard her ship.

 

“The Green paladin’s encryption is good, but not *that* good,” said Slav smugly. “I know she is planning another arm, but is slowed down by another project. I know about the other Black Paladin. The copy.” Allura furrowed her brows and opened her mouth, but Slav forestalled her with eight hands up.

 

“I used to work with the Blade you know. I can do secrecy,” he assured. “I know some people who are ideal for this project.” Slav folded six arms behind his back and gestured with the other two. “Also, I have a few arm designs already made. I drew them up after the paladins broke me out of prison. It was supposed to be a gesture of thanks, but the Black Paladin made it clear that he was not open to new arm designs. Now that he needs one, it might be a good time to bring it up again. Perhaps not by me though,” he admitted, rubbing his chin.

 

Allura stared for a moment. Under that eccentric personality, it seemed like Slav did have tact after all.

 

“Though it would still increase his chances of survival if he had *two* robot arms,” continued Slav enthusiastically. The other paladins honed in on Slav, transmitting glares that could fry an egg on the spot.

 

_Nevermind._

 

“That’s wonderful, Slav,” Allura thanked with her most diplomatic tone. “Perhaps you could run those designs by Pidge. I’m sure she would appreciate it.”

 

As they entered the lounge, Lance and Hunk began arguing over which game to play. Pidge and Coran joined in tossing around ideas, some from Earth and some Altean. Allura noticed that no one mentioned Monsters and Manna though. It was just as well. The game held too many memories of a certain someone.

 

Coran whipped out a color-based card game, and a smile spread across Allura’s face. She remembered playing that one as a child. As it turned out, the paladins had *very* strong opinions on names for colors. There was a bit of a translation issue between Altean and Earth definitions as well. They settled in to play it anyway.

 

Romelle revealed herself to be startlingly competitive, and everyone learned to keep their hands clear from the center of the table as she slammed a combination of cards down to claim victory for the round. Slav won the first three games, then seemed to purposely lose the rest as the others grew frustrated. “I calculate quantum realities based on random chance for fun!” Slav defended, amused yet smug. “What did you expect?”

 

They switched to a battle strategy game shortly after that, in which Krolia smoked them all. Coran bemoaned the loss of his win-record from 10,000 years ago. Slav patted him on the shoulder and assured him that it wasn’t his fault. She won in eighty-seven point six of realities after all.

 

Eventually, the toll of the day dragged their heads down, and Coran ordered them off to bed. The paladins stumbled down the hall like a sluggish amoeba, slowly breaking apart to enter each of their rooms. Allura was the last standing, guiding Hunk’s hand to the console to unlock his door. After ensuring he made it into his bed, she continued down the hall to her room.

 

Suddenly, the weight of the day crashed down and her eyes burned. A sob hitched its way out of her throat, and she sank down in the middle of the hallway. She hugged herself, tears spilling out like a flood. Soft footsteps approached from behind, and gentle hands descended on her shoulders.

 

“There, there,” Coran soothed.

 

“It was  _terrible_ Coran,” Allura cried. “There were so,  _so_ many...and they’re all gone.” She scrubbed hand over her eyes.

 

“Haggar’s cruelty knows no bounds,” said Coran solemnly.

 

“I hate her. I  _hate_ her,” Allura whispered vehemently as she shook.

 

“I know,” Coran said, rubbing her back. “But there is one clone that managed to escape her grasp. At least we can help him.”

 

Allura nodded and allowed Coran to help her to her feet. It wasn’t much of a comfort, but it gave her direction. As soon as Pidge had her team ready, Allura swore she would do anything in her power to help with the project. It was the best she could do for Not-Shiro.

 

She swallowed a broken laugh. She hoped Lance would find a suitable name soon.

 

_________________

 

The next day, a collective cheer rang through the castle-ship as the teleduv whirred to life. The pedestals on the bridge finally ascended for Allura, and she opened a wormhole to Olkarion. They landed in the capitol where they were received by relieved Coalition forces. Ryner greeted them as they descended from the castle.

 

“We’ve been so worried! We had no idea what happened with Lotor, but we heard there was tension,” Ryner prompted. Allura took in the Olkari guards and the bustling crowd around the castle.

 

“Perhaps we should get all the Coalition leaders online for this,” suggested Allura. Ryner escorted them to King Lubos’ former palace, which was now the central hub for strategy.

 

Once they were in the relative privacy of the castle hallways, Pidge informed Ryner of their secret A.I. project. Ryner took a minute to digest their request, gazing up at the tree that grew in the main foyer.

 

“I see. I think I can find some people to help with this who can be trusted,” she said, green eyes crinkling conspiratorially.

 

“Slav already knows,” Pidge informed. “He suggested some people. I’ve got a list. He also offered to help, but I’ve delegated the task of Shiro’s arm to him for now. I want to focus on building the android for Not-Shiro.”

 

“We’ve got to stop calling him that,” grumbled Lance, staring at his helmet.

 

“Think of a name that isn’t crap and we’ll consider it,” Hunk said cheekily. Lance let out a dramatic gasp and splayed his fingers over his chest.

 

“Gyro is not a terrible name! C’mon, it’s practically what he called himself!” Lance argued, holding his helmet tighter. Against her will, a smile played an Allura’s lips.

 

“Uh-huh. Keep trying,” Hunk shot back playfully.

 

They all entered a darkened chamber filled with screens, and the Coalition leaders stared back expectantly.

 

“Princess! We were so worried. We received word from the Blade that Voltron and Lotor were fighting,” said the Puigian leader.

 

Allura took a deep breath and prepared to own up her mistake. She had to tell them it was her fault that Lotor was able to pierce the veil. She glanced to the side, and the other paladins nodded to her.

 

Normally, she would give this sort of report alone, or only with Keith. This time, she was grateful everyone was there. Allura squared her shoulders and began by relaying the success of Lotor’s inter-reality gate and the ships she helped build.

 

“...When I returned to the castle after we had collected a sample from the rift,” continued Allura, opting to skip over the part where she had  _kissed_ Lotor, “I discovered something terrible.” Then, the paladins parted to reveal Romelle. She strode forward as gasps rang over the screens. Only Kolivan didn’t look surprised as Keith had already informed the Blades.

 

“Is that another Altean?” asked the one with a warbling voice. Allura stepped to the side, gestured to the newcomer, and borrowed Keith’s words.

 

“This is Romelle, and I think she should tell her own story.” 


	6. Infodumps and Hugs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's a lot to catch up when you've been on space vacation in the astral plane.

“Home isn't where you're from, it's where you find light when all grows dark.”

― Pierce Brown

 

Shiro woke to a merciful dark cocoon. Cautiously, he rubbed his fingers over the blanket. The texture didn’t spark any painful reactions, and he breathed a sigh of relief.

 

_At least today I won’t have to lay completely still,_ he thought. The transformation from a formless, cosmic entity to a body had been sensory hell. Some days even the slightest action would send spikes of pain through his temples. The sensation of chewing was so alien, the weight of food in his stomach often made him sick.

 

There were always consequences for bringing the dead back to life. Any story that involved resurrection cautioned against playing with something best left alone. Some days Shiro wondered if something of himself was altered or left behind in the astral plane.

 

It wasn’t as if he’d come back as a zombie. However, it was frighteningly easy to forget that he inhabited an organic machine that needed care. The only reason he attempted to eat and hydrate was because Keith reminded him to. A few times, Shiro had even forgotten to breathe. His chest started jerking, hiccup-like motions building to a burn. His vision started swimming and his heart pounded in terror. Before he could understand what was happening, a gasp tore down his throat. He coughed as the invisible stranglehold disappeared, and he sucked in air greedily. Black had chirped in alarm and patted him down. Once Shiro caught his breath, he basked in her comfort and sent her a feeling of reassurance. Even though it was disconcerting, Shiro learned to reacquaint himself with the rise and fall of his chest and the beat of his heart.

 

When he’d last seen Keith on the astral plane, he had said Allura was going to merge Shiro with his clone. However, he still couldn’t remember anything outside his starry prison. Keith had explained that Allura didn’t resort to the merge. When Shiro pressed for more answers, Keith always redirected.

 

“We saved him, but it’s complicated,” Keith had said. Shiro was selfishly glad that he didn’t have to share his body, but Keith’s answer only confused him. He’d heard nothing about this other him, and it was making him anxious. Now, without his body punishing him just for existing, Shiro allowed himself the luxury of curiosity.

 

What was this other him like? What happened to the team in his absence?

 

Shiro pushed the covers off his head and blinked in the low teal lighting. No pain from the light, good. At least he wasn’t regressing on small victories. He might actually be able to leave his room today.

 

Out of habit, he reached out to Black. Immediately, he felt like he was wrapped in a giant blanket. A purr rumbled behind his forehead.

 

_Good morning,_ he thought, sending her a wave of fondness.

 

_My paladin,_ she responded, nuzzling him. Shiro’s chest felt warm that she still called him that, even though Keith was her pilot. He should feel guilty, but for now he was too selfish to care. Black’s presence was the one constant in the whiplash of returning to the land of the living. Whenever things became too much, she would swoop in and block everything out, cradling him like she did in the void. Speaking to him without words, but he could understand. After spending so much time in her consciousness, their communication barrier was almost nonexistent. Reluctantly, Shiro wiggled out of her embrace.

 

_I’m leaving my room today,_ he said.

 

_Take care, my cub. I will be with you,_ she promised.

 

Shiro blinked, and his room appeared again. Thankfully, Keith wasn’t hovering over him in alarm this time. Apparently, when he spoke with Black or needed a break from reality, he would sort of...blank out for a while. He was told it looked unnerving from the outside. He’d needed more in the beginning days of his return.

 

Shiro surveyed the room, trying to spot the chair by the doorway in the dim lighting. Someone was usually there, but no one said anything when he sat up. To his surprise, the chair was occupied. The long hair made him think of Allura at first, but it wasn’t white. Even more puzzling, she had Altean markings. He could make out an unfamiliar style of clothing with a pink top and baggy pants. Shiro cleared his throat.

 

“Hello?” His voice cracked with disuse. The woman started, waking from a light sleep. Deep purple eyes blinked, and she rubbed them.

 

“Oh!” she whispered loudly. She hit a button on her wrist, then sprang up. “Keith asked me to keep watch for a while. I just let him know you’re awake.” Shiro squinted, vague recollections from Keith’s soft rambling coming into focus.

 

“You’re Romelle,” he stated, something clicking into place. “Keith told me about you.”

 

“Yes, that’s me,” she replied, putting her hands on her hips. “I’m surprised you remembered.”

 

“Yeah, I’ve been having trouble tracking. I know,” Shiro grumbled, embarrassed that everyone knew he wasn’t all there. Now that her job was complete, Romelle seemed at a loss of what to do. Shiro preferred the silence, but she looked so awkward just standing there. He cast about for something to say, but the door hissed open before he could make up his mind. He winced from the light of the hallway.

 

“Thanks Romelle,” Keith rasped, like he had just woken from a deep sleep. A spark of guilt flickered through Shiro. He didn’t want Keith to sacrifice rest for him. Romelle rose to her tip-toes, gave Keith a quick squeeze, then scurried from the room. Shiro blinked at the casual display of affection, once again struck by how much he’d missed.

 

Keith turned to Shiro. “How are you feeling?”

 

Shiro shouldn’t. He really shouldn’t. But he suppressed a smirk and finally gave the honest answer.

 

“Like I just came back from the dead.” Keith’s eyes widened, then he slapped a hand to his face.

 

“I’m sorry, I’m terrible, I know,” Shiro chuckled, unrepentant. Keith glowered over his fingers.

 

“Really?” he growled. Shiro just grinned back.

 

“What? It’s true,” he shot back.

 

“You’re in a good mood today,” Keith grumbled.

 

“Yes, actually,” Shiro responded. Keith huffed and approached his bedside with a glass of water.

 

“Don’t joke about that,” he demanded softly.

 

“All right,” said Shiro, shame creeping up his back at the buried hurt in Keith’s eyes.

 

“And no more dying,” Keith insisted, offering the glass.

 

_No promises,_ Shiro thought darkly. Black growled at him.

 

_Sorry,_ he thought. He would never say that to any of his team’s faces, but it was the truth. There were no certainties out here.

 

“I’ll do my best,” he promised, taking the water. Shiro tried not to be annoyed how Keith’s hand hovered, ready to catch the cup. He’d only dropped it one time!

 

The doorway slid open again, and Shiro squinted in the brightness to make out the other figure. Recognizing a Galran silhouette, Shiro gripped the glass tighter. He glanced at Keith, who seemed completely at ease with the other’s presence. Deliberately, he set the water on the floor.

 

“Who’s this?” questioned Shiro, trying to calm his racing heart. “A Blade?”

 

“Oh!” Keith’s eyes were wide, as if shocked Shiro didn’t know. “Um, this is Krolia. Yes, she’s a Blade. And...she’s my mother.”

 

Surprise washed over Shiro. His eyes darted back and forth between the two. Despite the difference in coloring, he could immediately pick out similarities in their faces. Recovering, Shiro extended a hand with a smile.

 

“It is an honor to meet you,” he greeted warmly. Krolia stepped forward, clasped his hand, and smiled back with a hint of sadness Shiro didn’t understand.

 

“So really, how are you doing today?” asked Keith, sitting on the edge of the bed. “You up for joining us in the lounge? Everyone’s been eager to see you.” Shiro released Krolia’s hand and once again studied the new scar on Keith’s face. Shiro was still shocked to see how tall Keith had gotten. His gangly muscles had filled out, his jaw was more defined, and his countenance seemed...softer. He needed answers.

 

“My body seems tired of sleeping all the time,” Shiro admitted, picking up the water again. He downed it in one go. Discovering that his stomach wasn’t rejecting anything today, he continued. “The usual triggers aren’t bothering me right now. So, yeah. I’m up for seeing everybody,” he finished with a smile.

 

Keith seemed pleased with the answer, and any doubt Shiro felt washed away. Keith stood and offered a hand up. Krolia assessed Shiro with a critical eye.

 

“If you say so,” she intoned dryly. Shiro fought to keep a scowl off his face at her blatant skepticism. He swung his legs over the side of the bed, brushed off Keith’s offered hand, and stubbornly made it to the bathroom with minimal wobbling.

 

Shiro caught his reflection in the mirror as he entered. The white hair was still unsettling even though he’d seen it a couple times. He was constantly reminded of the missing arm, but seeing it was a different experience altogether. The most eerie change was the morphed port at his shoulder.

 

Snapping out of his reverie, he splashed some water over his face and brushed his teeth. He leaned his elbow on the counter as his legs shook. He was fine. He could do this. It was time to stop hiding.

 

When he entered the room again, the first thing he spotted was a hoverchair. Krolia perched behind it expectantly, and the scowl bloomed over Shiro’s face in earnest.

 

“Oh no. No, no. I can walk,” he stated, attempting to cross his arms, but stumbled over the phantom limb.

 

_Dangit._

 

Trying to save face, he put his hand on his hip instead. Keith watched the standoff between his mother and Shiro, bemused. Krolia’s eyebrow twitched, noticing his slip and the tremble in his legs. She strode over, pulling the chair with her. Slowly but firmly, she pushed on his shoulders. Unprepared for the strain on his legs, he flopped down like a ragdoll as Krolia caught him easily with the chair.

 

“Hey!” Shiro protested, glaring up at her. He did  _not_ appreciate being manhandled. Or being treated like an invalid. He’d gotten enough of that from authority figures leading up to the Kerberos mission. And basically anyone once they learned about his condition. Krolia crossed her arms and looked down at him.

 

“You should be bedridden. Don’t let your pride hurt yourself,” she scolded, like he was the one being unreasonable.

 

“I can handle a little walking,” Shiro shot back, surly. He was aware of how childish he sounded. And the sensation from being pushed down, however gently, was sending backlashes of pain to his brain again.

 

“From what I understand, your habit of being unwilling to admit your weakness was how your clone’s affliction was left untreated,” Krolia continued in her dry voice. Shiro flinched at the direct honesty. He looked to Keith for help. Keith just seemed amused his mom was mom-ing him. And he didn’t contradict her, gazing at Shiro knowingly. The traitor.

 

“No overextending yourself,” Keith reiterated, leaning over and nearly booping him on the nose. Shiro slid back in the hoverchair in a pure sulk. Black chuckled.

 

_Don’t tire yourself, my cub,_ she chided.

 

“Fine,” he sighed. As much as he hated to admit it, he was grateful that he didn’t have to walk. The short trip to the bathroom was the most he’d moved in days.

 

Keith handed him a pair of green sunglasses and Shiro put them on without complaint. Krolia pushed him out into the hallway, and Keith trailed behind out of eyesight. Shiro’s eyes adjusted to the light as he made himself comfortable in the chair. He squinted even with the extra protection. He grudgingly admitted the glasses and the chair were a good call, even if they made him feel even more like an elderly person on top of his white hair.

 

He rolled his head to the side to see Keith’s wolf padding alongside his seat. It poked its nose over the armrest, snuffling curiously. Shiro offered his hand.

 

“What’s its name?” Shiro asked, delighted as the wolf butted its cold, wet nose on his palm.

 

“Hunk called him Cosmo and it stuck,” Keith muttered, disgruntled. Shiro couldn’t help grinning at Keith’s response and the sensation of giving Cosmo ear scritches. The wolf trotted to keep up, eyes closed in bliss. Shiro’s hand lost contact with the soft fur as Krolia turned into the lounge. Cosmo whuffed in displeasure and trailed behind.

 

The assembled paladins shushed each other as he glided in. Shiro noted that the lights were dimmer than normal, but didn’t comment on it. Krolia pushed him down a ramp to the ground-level lounge seats.

 

“Well look who’s here,” Lance called, arms slung over the backrest. His voice was a few notches quieter than usual. “If it isn’t our resident silver fox.”

 

Shiro blinked. He’d felt ambivalent toward his new look but he was sort of...flattered? Something must have shown on his face because Lance beamed at him.

 

“I like the glasses,” Hunk greeted, setting out an array of snacks. “Very stylish.” Krolia parked him beside the table where Allura sat. The princess perked up with a brilliant smile.

 

“How are you feeling?” she asked, folding her arms on her lap.

 

“Better,” he responded honestly.

 

“Well if you ever need to tap out, just let us know,” said Lance. “We won’t be offended, pinky-swear.”

 

“Where’s Pidge?” inquired Shiro, noticing her absence.

 

“Working on a special project. Coran’s gone to fetch her,” Allura informed, scooting a bit closer.

 

“Good luck with that. There’s no way he could pull her away,” snorted Hunk. “She’s in candyland right now.”

 

“Oh right. We’re on...Olkarian?” ventured Shiro, hoping he remembered right.

 

“Yup!” encouraged Hunk. “It’s about time we caught you up, buddy.”

 

Shiro nodded and reached for something that looked like a breadstick. He felt guilty about not being able to finish all the meals Hunk sent him, so he vowed to enjoy the snacks laid out. The look on Hunk’s face was worth it.

 

“I made a cheese dip to go with it too, here,” he said eagerly, scooting it closer. Shiro accepted the cup and gave it a try. His eyebrows raised. It really did taste like cheese. The texture was smooth and velvety as he munched.

 

Coran’s boisterous voice sounded down the hallway. Shiro craned his neck toward the door, holding his snack out of Cosmo’s reach. He was thankful that his stomach wasn’t rebelling against solids today as well. Keith shooed Cosmo away, and Coran entered the room. To his credit, Coran immediately dropped his voice once he crossed the threshold. The advisor beamed at Shiro and strode over.

 

“Number One! You’re looking well,” he observed.

 

“Good to see you too, Coran,” Shiro greeted. Coran’s eyes crinkled, and he put a hand on Shiro’s shoulder. Which was how Shiro learned touch was ok today too. The cynical part of him wondered when something would begin to go wrong.

 

Shockingly, Pidge scurried into the room next. She still had her laptop and typed furiously with one hand. However, she snapped her screen closed and shot a grin at Shiro.

 

“Long time no see, Sleeping Beauty,” she greeted, coming to his side. Shiro chuckled.

 

“Sleeping Beauty, really? Who was my prince charming with true love’s kiss?” he said slyly. Keith choked and Lance let out a delighted laugh, covering his mouth.

 

“There was no kiss,” Coran informed, confused.

 

“Nooo, you killed it before it even started!” mourned Lance, drooping over the table accidently pushing some snacks toward the edge. Hunk swept in and pushed them away from the edge, eyeing Lance. He held up his hands apologetically. Pidge shook her head, grin never fading. She hesitated by Shiro’s armrest. Then, Pidge set her laptop on the table and held out her arms shyly. Warmth spread through Shiro’s chest as he accepted her embrace as best as he could. Hunk ‘awww-ed’ and Shiro heard a click of a camera, probably from Lance. He tried to muster up a half-hearted glare at the current red paladin. Lance just hid his smile, unrepentant.

 

“I believe it’s time we caught you up on everything,” said Allura, placing a hand on his shoulder.

 

“Yeah, that sounds good,” replied Shiro, appreciating the contact. He didn’t know how much he missed it until Pidge hugged him. Now, he never wanted her to let go.

 

Pidge did eventually pull away, and Shiro noticed Romelle enter from another door. Pidge sat next to Lance, who scooted over to make room for Hunk and Keith. Romelle sat on the back of the seats, legs dangling in between Keith and Pidge. Krolia leaned against the end, and Coran opted to stand.

 

“Actually, maybe we should start with your point of view, so we know what to fill in,” Lance suggested.

 

“Good idea,” said Shiro. Everyone settled in eagerly. Lance munched on something that looked like chips and passed the bowl around. Shiro took a deep breath. For once, he didn’t think through what he was going to say. He just started talking.

 

“It was hard to sense the passage of time in the astral plane,” he began. “There were stars, but they didn’t move in orbits like they do here. I started measuring time in routines.” Everyone listened intently.

 

“I could see what happened in fights that involved the lions. Almost everything else is blank. I at least know who Lotor is. And um, the clone,” he finished softly. It was much shorter than his speeches, but at least it got his point across.

 

“We should probably tell you how we found this...other you,” offered Coran. At Shiro’s nod, Coran took the lead. He refrained from his usual dramatics and sound effects and plowed through the story. Everyone chimed in, adding details they deemed necessary. They all stayed remarkably on task in Shiro’s opinion.

 

Sadness bloomed in Shiro’s heart when he heard how much the team struggled after his disappearance. It was quickly replaced by pride at how they had stepped up. Shiro’s lips curled in displeasure at Lotor’s duplicitous plans for the comet and the way the clone treated Keith initially.

 

Shiro should be ashamed he felt resentment toward the clone. He sympathized with the state they found him in, but his wariness was firmly entrenched. He watched everyone closely for their reactions whenever the other-him was mentioned.

 

The only thing that shook him from his vigilance was the revelation that Matt Holt was alive.

 

“He’s en route to Olkarian right now!” exclaimed Pidge. “You’ll be able to see him soon.” All Shiro could do was nod, shock rendering him dumb. He couldn’t believe it. He’d spent so long wondering and hoping. Worrying that the worst had happened after he’d escaped the arena. Now, Pidge’s faith had paid off. Shiro closed his eyes to compose himself.

 

Learning Sam Holt was alive did nothing to help him calm down. From there on, Shiro surrendered to the complete tsunami of information his team hurled at him.

 

Once Black responded to clone, Keith left to work with the Blade permanently. Shiro cast sorrowful eyes at Keith, wondering what prompted him to pull away in the first place. Keith remained silent.

 

Shiro remembered the first time he saw the other-him. The confusion and shock gave way to fear for his team. Listening to his desperate pleas, Shiro grudgingly urged Black to let him pilot.

 

From there on out, it was about building support for the coalition. Lance launched into a tale about...a Voltron show? Shiro playfully demanded to see some clips despite their protests.

 

“Your clone was a terrible actor, but he somehow stole the show,” Lance informed fondly.

 

Once they began describing the Blitz, Shiro said he remembered most of it. What he didn’t expect to hear was that Lotor’s intervention had saved Keith’s life. Shiro turned Keith’s words back on him.

 

“No dying,” he said lowly. Keith just nodded back. Shiro made a mental note to have a long talk with Keith. It seemed he was excluding himself from the narrative, and Shiro was attuned to that avoidance. Minimizing himself was something Keith did when there was a lot more going on than he would admit.

 

Shiro’s gratitude toward Lotor saving Keith was overshadowed by how disturbed he was at his clone’s actions. It sounded like, well...exactly like he would have acted in that position. Well, maybe not with as much obsessive support. And without the stress-related bouts of temper. Which were related to headaches he couldn’t control apparently? Shiro rubbed his temple. He couldn’t tell if it was strain from all the information or sympathy pains. Maybe both.

 

Shiro was glad Zarkon was gone for good, but he had no idea how to feel about Lotor. He’d never met the prince in person after all. Once again, the clone’s logic in bringing Lotor to the Kral Zera seemed on par with Shiro’s instincts. His skin crawled. How could he not feel uneasy when Haggar’s creation so perfectly mimicked him?

 

As they described working alongside Lotor, Shiro gave up trying to imagine himself in the clone’s shoes. It was too much of a mind-bender, and his own headaches were creeping up his skull.

 

Pidge praised Hunk for his leadership at Omega Shield, then quietly described how much agony Not-Shiro had been on that mission.

 

“After that there was an attack on Olkarion,” continued Pidge. “Oh speaking of which, Slav is here. He’s actually got some new designs for your arm if you’re interested.”

 

“Oh,” said Shiro. He remembered his irate behavior toward Slav during the escape from Beta Traz. That certainly hadn’t been the time to talk about arm upgrades.

 

“That...I might be up for that. Later,” he amended. Now that they weren’t in the middle of a mission, discussing a new arm was something he might look forward to. He was still a bit wary of the eccentric genius, but first impressions weren’t always correct.

 

“You were speaking of an attack, Pidge?” reminded Allura.

 

“Oh yeah! During that attack on Olkarion, we fought a beast that infected all technology, even Voltron,” Pidge continued. “To override it, we all used our bayards and entered the bond between Lions.”

 

Shiro sat up. He remembered the pull from Black and finding the others just as they started to disappear. He remembered desperately reaching out to Lance as he faded out. Shiro glanced at the paladin in question. Lance seemed particularly subdued and wouldn’t meet Shiro’s eyes. Before he could speak, Allura continued with the search for Oriande. Shiro made a mental note to check in with Lance later. At this rate, he would need one-on-ones with the entire team.

 

Lance only spoke up again when Pidge finished regaling him about the castle shutting down outside the Oriande.

 

“The other-you said that he couldn’t remember anything from the Voltron mindspace,” Lance said. “He said that he didn’t feel like himself.”

 

Shiro’s warines shifted toward sympathy. No one had said so yet, but it seemed everything going on his his double’s head was out of his control. Any spying or subterfuge wasn’t deliberate.

 

Allura told him about how she helped Lotor with his ships, eyes filled with guilt. Shiro cut off her self-deprecating monologue to reassure her. He would’ve given Lotor the benefit of the doubt too, based on the information they had.

 

“All right, Keith, it’s your turn,” Lance said, a sly grin spreading. “You can’t avoid your story any longer!” Keith sighed and nodded. He unfolded his arms and launched into a tale about finding Krolia at Warlord Ranveig’s base. He described chasing the quintessence source and travelling through the quantum abyss. Keith told him how they found Cosmo on the back of a space whale. Shiro blinked at that. The story was a lot to process, but that bit took the cake.

 

Then, Romelle told them how Keith found her. They travelled to the location of the second colony, only to find Lotor’s quintessence facility. Horrified, Shiro eyed Allura. Her fists clenched on the table and her lips formed a thin line. He placed a hand over her fist. Her shoulders relaxed a fraction. Shiro saw Keith put a hand on Romelle’s knee in support. Taking in the two, Shiro realised that Keith had probably mentally adopted Romelle. Despite the situation, he smiled a little.

 

“Wait, wait, before we get to the finale,” Lance interjected, “I want to know something.” He whirled on Keith and pointed. “How long were you gone?” Keith shrank and Shiro’s eyebrows raised. He had no idea what was going on here.

 

“Two years,” Krolia interrupted. Keith pressed his lips together and shot a halfhearted glare over the row of paladins. He ducked his head as everyone focused on him.

 

“Dude, you hadn’t seen us for two years??” asked Hunk tearfully.

 

“Yeah,” Keith muttered.

 

“WHHHHHAAATTTT?!?!” Lance shouted, forgetting to keep his voice down. Shiro grit his teeth. Lance continued to sputter. “I mean, it makes sense ‘cause you got taller and everything, but two years???! Dude holy-”

 

“Lance!” hissed Keith, flicking his eyes to Shiro.

 

“Sorry,” whispered Lance, contrite.

 

“We need a coming home party,” Hunk said sagely.

 

“Guys, I don’t need-”

 

“Who said it was for you?” Hunk argued playfully, cutting Keith off. “I’m kidding, I’m kidding. It’s for you AND Shiro. And no, you’re not escaping the party. Or this.” Hunk leaned over and snatched him up in a hug. Pidge and Lance joined from the other side.

 

“I had no idea,” said Allura, hands to her mouth and eyes wide. Shiro’s heart ached for Keith. He looked between him and Krolia. There was definitely more story to tell there. And given that this is the first the rest of the team heard about this; it would be difficult to get the rest of the story.

 

Shiro suddenly felt very, very tired.

 

“Anything else?” he bit out. He was a bit grouchy, but he was starting to regress, and he wanted to go back to his room. Black brushed against the back of his neck.

 

_I’m here,_ she reminded. Shiro acknowledged her, but he didn’t want to space out and alarm the team.

 

_Not now,_ he thought. He was fine. He could last a little longer.

 

“Are you alright to continue?” murmured Allura, tilting her head in concern. Shiro’s head was spinning from all the information, but he nodded. Better to get through it now.

 

Hunk put party planning on hold and recounted how Romelle exposed Lotor. The air grew subdued as he described the clone going rouge. Keith laid out the bare bones of the fight at the cloning facility. Learning how Keith got the scar was the hardest part for Shiro to hear. Pidge mentioned barely beating a super virus that nearly killed them all. Shiro’s heart ached.

 

And all those clones! Shiro didn’t know how deeply he could feel violated by Haggar until now. Shiro pulled himself back to the narrative as Keith summed up the destruction of the facility.

 

“None of them made it,” Keith said softly. “We checked.”

 

They...checked?

 

_Oh._

 

No wonder everyone was looking at him that way. They must have seen hundreds of versions of him, in pieces. Shiro took in the way Hunk barely seemed to be holding himself back from launching across the table. The way Lance hugged himself. Keith’s eyes were on the table, darkened with horrors. Pidge huddled into Hunk’s side, Allura was only just stopping herself from reaching out.

 

“Come here,” Shiro said softly, opening his arm in invitation. The team scrambled to surround him. They held on with all their fear and gratitude, reassuring themselves that he was there and not a messy spot on the ground on a distant planet. Sniffles came from every direction. Shiro went limp and let them hold on as much as they needed to. With so many tears to go around, he was sure no one would notice the few that escaped his eyes. He soaked up the contact like sand in the desert during a rainstorm and closed his eyes.

 

When they finally got their composure and settled back down, Hunk finished the story.

 

“So we were facing off with Lotor, and he was all ‘We’re still on the same side’, and we were like ‘heck no you lied to us’. Then Keith called us and we had to bail to get to you- I mean, the other you. He was dying.”

 

“So do I finally get to hear what happened to him?” Shiro asked Keith.

 

“Wait, you skipped over the part where I exploded the main turbine to get the engine running,” complained Coran.

 

“Oh yeah, that was awesome dude,” complimented Hunk. “You were the real mvp.”

 

“So your clone,” Lance continued, “After we saved his memories, Pidge had this awesome idea of A.I.-ifying him!”

 

Shiro blinked. “You’re...what?”

 

“We transferred the clone’s memories to a memory capsule, like the one we used on Sendak,” clarified Pidge. “Then Allura transferred you to his body. Your quintessence was enough to sustain it. Right now, we’re building him a high-tech android, and his memories will become A.I.”

 

“Oh ok...that’s…” Shiro stuttered.

 

“Told you it was complicated,” muttered Keith.

 

“We’re still brainstorming names,” said Lance. “I still think we should keep his Monsters and Manna name - I think he pronounced it Jiro?”

 

“Wow, so creative,” teased Hunk.

 

“Hey I don’t have a lot to work with here,” defended Lance. “It’s not like I can look up baby names online. My knowledge of Japanese is limited, and anything in English or Spanish sounds weird.”

 

“We have a list of Altean names in a codex somewhere in the library,” offered Coran.

 

Distracted from the surrealness of the situation, Shiro looked up.

 

“Wait, Jiro?” he asked. Lance perked up.

 

“Yeah, we were playing this game and that was the name of his character. He only wanted to be a paladin,” Lance said with a bittersweet smile.

 

“Huh,” Shiro said softly.

 

“What is it?” asked Hunk.

 

“It could just be a coincidence, but that name means ‘second son’ in Japanese,” Shiro informed.

 

“I rather like the sound of that,” Coran said, smiling fondly.

 

“Ha! See, I can think of good names,” Lance crowed. Shiro winced.

 

_Ow._

 

“Technically you weren’t the one who came up with that name,” argued Hunk.

 

Keith caught his eye and Shiro nodded. Not needing a second signal, Keith got up and stepped behind the chair.

 

“And didn’t you suggest Katana at one point?” Pidge laughed. Despite the pain, Shiro smirked.

 

_Really Lance?_ he thought.

 

“Ok, that wasn’t my best one,” Lance admitted, abashed. He glanced at Shiro and winced. “Sorry dude, I keep forgetting to keep my voice down.”

 

“I’m surprised you lasted this long,” Pidge teased. Lance stuck out his tongue, and Keith started to push Shiro away.

 

“Ok, so we’ve got one name to suggest to him,” Lance went on, “But I’m worried he might not like it because it sounds too close to Shiro. I’m open to suggestions.”

 

The word bubbled from the depths of Shiro’s heart before he could even articulate why.

 

“Ryou,” he said.

 

“Huh?” Lance whipped his head toward Shiro.

 

“Ryou, we could suggest that,” Keith replied, eyes soft.

 

“I like it. What does it mean?” asked Hunk.

 

“Depending on the kanji, it can mean ‘refreshing,’ or ‘distant’, or ‘reality’,” informed Shiro.

 

“That’s quite fitting,” Allura affirmed, “As is Jiro. It will be wonderful to give him a few options.”

 

Keith and Shiro shared a look. Keith was the only one who knew about his stillborn twin, and he gave a sad smile. Then, he continued to push Shiro away from the noise.

 

“Speaking of which, how’s the crystal coming, Allura?” Pidge inquired.

 

The technical conversation faded away as they got further down the hallway. Shiro could sense their excitement at an impending family member. With that comparison, it made the name Ryou feel more right.

 

_____________________

 

Shiro slept as soon as he was safe under his blanket again. He woke in the middle of the night cycle, and a tray from Hunk was inside the doorway. No one sat in the chair.

 

_Black?_ Shiro thought.

 

_I’m here,_ she replied, the familiar metaphysical rubbing soothing Shiro’s anxiety. He sank back down.

 

_What are you thinking, my paladin?_ Black prodded.

 

_I’m thinking about a lot of things,_ he responded.  _Mostly about him._ Black rumbled softly.

 

_You are worried._

 

_Yes,_ Shiro thought.

 

This...other him. His reflection. What was it like to just be memories? He remembered staring into Sendak’s memory capsule wondering the same thing. Was it similar to the astral plane? Was it like dreaming?

 

He’d told the others that routine kept his sanity in the void, as if just having a routine could stave off the horrors of isolation. The only reason his mind wasn’t in tatters was thanks to the constant companionship of Black. The human brain just wasn’t meant to withstand being alone for so long. His stomach twisted.

 

How long had his other self been in that memory capsule?

 

Shiro slid off the bed and took a few shaky steps to the hoverchair. It didn’t take long to figure out the manual function, and Shiro soon glided down the castle hallways. It mattered less to his pride when there was no one to see.

 

He didn’t know where they kept the container, but he had a few guesses. Pidge and Hunk’s lab was the first stop. Thankfully, it was the only one he needed. And he wasn’t alone.

 

“Oh hey,” said Lance, starting at Shiro’s shadow in the door. “I didn’t know you were up.”

 

Shiro took in Lance’s cross-legged pose in front of the glowing container. He was in his pajamas and had one of those headbands they used for bonding exercises on. Bracing himself, Shiro stood.

 

“I didn’t know you were up either,” he replied. “What are you doing?” Lance removed the headband and got up as well.

 

“Pidge tried to rig these things so we could communicate with Jiro,” Lance said, holding up the circlet. Shiro smiled.

 

“I see you’ve latched onto that name,” he commented.

 

“I mean, I still want him to be able to choose when he wakes up,” Lance clarified, “But I just feel bad basically calling him ‘Not-You’,” he finished, gesturing to Shiro. Shiro nodded understandingly, then held out his hand. Lance obliged and passed over the headband.

 

“How does this work?” he asked.

 

“It’s supposed to work like our bonding exercises,” Lance said. “I keep reaching out, but I never seem to get through. I like to think he can hear me though,” he finished with a wistful smile.

 

Shiro took in the pulsating strands in the tube. They swirled like the eddies on a seashore, shimmering purple white. It reminded him of one of those tacky lamps that were popular when he was younger, only this was more streamlined.

 

“Has Pidge been able to figure out why it’s not working?” asked Shiro.

 

“No, she only stops by when she needs a break from the android. Which isn’t often,” said Lance, turning away from the only light source in the room. “I mean, we have no idea how a brain translates to an Altean memory thingy. Pidge insisted it should work, but no one’s been successful so far.” Lance sighed and crossed his arms.

 

“Maybe our connection just isn’t strong enough to him. It wouldn’t be the first time that happened,” he muttered.

 

“Lance,” Shiro began, taking in the self-flagellating tone, “you know I don’t blame you for what happened on Olkarion, right?” Lance averted his eyes.

 

“I let both of you down that day,” he murmured, hanging his head. Shiro stepped in front of him and put both hands on his shoulders. Lance raised his eyes reluctantly. The hunched posture and upward tilted eyes screamed guilt.

 

“Lance, I don’t blame you for anything,” he insisted. “There was no way you could have known what was going on.”

 

“I guess,” Lance agreed halfheartedly, “But I knew more than the others. I should have been able to put something together.”

 

“Buddy,” Shiro continued, “You expect way too much out of yourself. Chasing ‘what ifs’ only bring pain.” Lance’s eyes tightened.

 

“Yeah,” he said.

 

“And from what I heard,” Shiro said, smiling, “You were essential in holding the team together after I was gone. You really stepped up as second in command. Switching to Red must have been tough. You’ve been an amazing red paladin, and I’m proud of you.” Lance’s expression crumbled at the seams. Shiro gave a gentle tug, and Lance buried his face in Shiro’s shoulder, arms wrapping around his back. Shiro rested his chin on top of Lance’s head as he sniffled.

 

“I’m so proud of you,” he said again, rubbing Lance’s back.

 

“Thanks. I’m really glad you’re back, Shiro,” Lance choked. Shiro closed his eyes and held on.

 

“Me too.”

 

____________________

 

Once Lance left for bed, Shiro spent some time sitting and staring at the container. The castle was quiet at this hour, and he swore he could hear a faint ringing from those ethereal strands. He watched them swirl round and round, pondering over the person they represented.

 

The last time he started down a memory capsule, it was an enemy. Now, it was himself. Separate, but identical. Someone who could grow beyond what Haggar intended for him. Shiro could relate to that.

 

Determined, Shiro placed the circlet on his head, sat up straight, and reached out.

 

____________________

 

He was just memories. He knew this now.

 

When Lance’s voice had rung through the blackness, he was convinced it was a hallucination. But something felt different about this one. There was a sense of warmth, like sand under his feet; and the taste of a salty breeze. He recognized this as quintessence, the thing that resonated through the bond of Voltron.

 

The thing, he realized with crushing certainty, that he didn’t have anymore.

 

He tried to respond, but the connection seemed to only be one-way. Or, the lack of quintessence on his part was at fault. Lance explained that they had put him in a memory containment unit. Startlingly, he felt a well of betrayal.

 

Why?? He’d willingly offered everything he had to give the team the Shiro they deserved. Ultimately, they must have deemed him unworthy. It made sense to purge the imperfections so their friend would have a clean state. The complications of sharing a body weren’t fair to the real Shiro after all.

 

What did that make him? An archive of a time better left in the past? Would he stay here, trapped forever? It was just like being stuck in that ship, desperately chasing Voltron, only to be left behind in the uncaring limitlessness of space.

 

He learned to dream. In the landscape of his own mind, he constructed worlds to ground himself and pass time. No matter how many sanctuaries he constructed, they all crumbled under the onslaught of his past life’s demons. Sleep had never been an escape anyway. He pondered the unfairness of being tormented by memories that weren’t even his.

 

He wished they would just...get rid of him. Maybe they did and he was floating in deep space, shot out of the castle just like Sendak had been. Sometimes, Paladin’s bright quintessence broke through the darkness. It was the only evidence he had against being spaced. Pidge rambled about projects of hers and Hunk spoke of all the people he met while working on Olkarion. Allura described crystals and alchemy and quintessence. Eventually, he began to wonder if they were all hallucinations too.

 

How long had it been? Months? Years? Eventually, he gave up caring, drifting in the current of memories. Sometimes, he cradled the orbs, watching a life that wasn’t his play out with a numb sort of envy. It must be nice to be real.

 

A flash of lightning ripped through the void. He jerked as wind and ozone whirled around him. In the distance, like thunder, a voice echoed.

 

“Hello?”

 

Fear seized him. He knew who that was. The original. Clouds enveloped him and he felt Shiro’s quintessence, something he realized he missed with terrifying intensity. He shivered and prepared for the strike of righteous judgement.

 

“Hey there,” Shiro soothed. “I don’t know if you can hear me, but I just wanted to check in and see how you’re doing.”

 

_What?_

 

“Wow, ok. That's different. I can't hear you if you're talking, but you feel...confused?"

 

Shock rippled through him.   _Yes,_ he thought.

 

“Huh, this is how Black and I used to talk,” Shiro mused. After the fear of a blow that never fell faded, he gave into curiosity.

 

_Why._

 

“Why am I here? Well, I was worried. Everyone’s excited about the android they’re building for you, but I was more concerned with how you’re doing in there.”

 

_??? Android…?_

 

“Ok, that one was a little harder to make out, but I can still tell you’re confused. Let me try to explain…”


	7. Overdue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for your patience, finishing up my last semester of college ate up my time. Hope you enjoy!
> 
> Edit: I finally have a laptop (yay!), so I went back and fixed all those embarrassing typos. Sorry if I spammed your inbox with updates. Hopefully this is the last time I'll need to do a multi-chapter edit.
> 
> To everyone who read despite the typos: thank you, you all are literally angels and I wouldn't have kept writing without you!

“Exploring the unknown requires tolerating uncertainty.”

\- Brain Green  

 

Giant windows stretched across the lab, showcasing a spectacular sunset over Olkarion’s capital. Shiro tore his gaze from the scenery to observe the organized chaos that was the A.I. project. Pidge stood in the center of it all, directing scientists and calling for materials he couldn’t hope to pronounce.

 

He glanced to his right to see Hunk reach into the artificial body. From the glimpses Shiro had gotten of it, it appeared to be a mix of Olkari and Earth design. Glowing indents wrapped around the obsidian surface, giving it an organic look. It was reminiscent of the Olkari cube they’d fought, but the incomplete humanoid structure reminded Shiro of a crash test dummy. He leaned against the window, taking in the excited energy during the final stages of the project. The focused atmosphere shattered with Slav’s screech,

 

“Would someone PLEASE move that calibrator two feet away from the door!!!”

 

Shiro winced, and the Olkari scientists mentally dared each other to draw the short straw. Hunk sighed and shuffled over to fulfill the demand. As the Yellow Paladin grunted in effort to move the machinery, Slav approached Shiro.

 

“Black Paladin, I am ready,” the ferret-like alien proclaimed.

 

“Just Shiro,” he replied, pushing the green sunglasses further up his nose. His recovery had been going well, but today involved a lot more stimuli than normal and he wanted to be cautious. Black had approved of his rare show of self-consideration.

 

Shiro trailed behind Slav as they approached his corner of the lab. He stood awkwardly in the midst of erratically arranged equipment, and Slav pulled up a holoscreen.

 

“Don’t touch the Flaxinators,” he warned. “Shifting them in any way could cause-“

 

“An explosion?” interjected Shiro dryly.

 

“No, the chances of power failure to increase,” Slav huffed, “…Which could potentially result in an explosion in twenty-three point two percent of all realities.”

 

“Sorry,” Shiro apologized, shuffling away from the tech in question. Slav pulled out a stool.

 

“Sit,” he ordered. “I calculate the Red Paladin will disturb me if you are exposed to too much physical strain.” Shiro settled down, puzzling over that statement. Though not completely out of character, it seemed unusual for Lance to hound people about his wellbeing.

 _Wait_...

 

“Do you mean Keith?” inquired Shiro.

 

“Yes, I did say the Red Paladin,” repeated Slav.

 

“Oh, Keith flies the Black Lion,” corrected Shiro.

 

“Hmm,” Slav said. He shot Shiro a knowing side-eye, then continued tapping away at his screen.

 

Shiro turned his gaze to the floor. It was true that he sometimes thought of Keith as the red paladin, and Lance as the blue. Heck, Slav had just called him the Black Paladin and he didn’t even register it as incorrect. Shiro sighed through his nose.

 

His desire to get back into action increased the more he recovered. He worried about what Keith would do after he reconnected to Black. Would he rejoin the Blades with Krolia? He’d heard from Allura that Krolia had been sticking around the castle ship, and that Kolivan was impatient for her to return.

 

Even though he worried about Keith pulling away, Shiro knew that he’d be incapable of staying on the sidelines once he recovered. He could be useful on the bridge, assisting Coran in defense and support. However, the thought of watching his team plunge into danger without him grated.

 

Besides, he’d never taken well to stillness. He wondered if it was in his nature. He’d always had a sense of urgency. Maybe it had to do with having a faster ticking timer on his body than most. The clone’s body, rather.

 

Shiro’s mind screeched to a halt. He was in the  _clone’s_ body. The idea of it had been so abstract that he’d initially blocked it out. Now, his mind went into overdrive. Was his illness something that could carry over genetically? Would that be something the witch would alter, or would she not bother because the clone was disposable to her? Shiro’s mind whirled with the possibility of  _maybe_ while common sense screamed at him not to cling to false hope.

 

“...Hello, Shiro?” Slav waved a hand in front of his face. Shiro startled and drew his attention back to the present.

 

“Sorry, you were saying?” he prompted, temporarily burying his crisis.

 

“I have several robot arm designs for you to pick from,” Slav explained, gesturing to his screen. Then he folded his arms behind his back and closed his eyes.

 

“Now, I was threatened under the pain of uncreative death by the Red Paladin if I brought up having *two* robotic arms, so I won’t.” Slav squinted one eye open, asking without words.

 

“One’s enough,” Shiro deadpanned. Slav hmm-ed and shrugged. Then he touched the first design, zooming in on the model.

 

“This one is mine, with some features I think you will find useful,” informed Slav.

 

Shiro listened politely to all the functions it had, trying to keep his eyes from bugging out at the sheer size of the prosthetic. Proportionally, it would be like Sendak’s. Shiro couldn’t imagine wearing something three times the size of his regular arm every day.

 

On a positive note, Slav had incorporated every possible feature to ward off disaster. It had compartments for food, a heater to prevent freezing, a grappling hook, laser beams, propulsion systems for an emergency jet pack, storage for first aid, tools for field repairs in the fingers, and even a retractable blade on the forearm. While having a Swiss Army knife for an arm was nice in theory, Shiro mentally rehearsed turning it down.

 

“It is larger than your previous arm, but also lighter to compensate,” assured the genius.

 

“This all seems very useful,” began Shiro, “but would I be able to remove it?”

 

“Yes, I knew the size would be an issue for sleeping,” Slav pointed out. Shiro paused.

 

 _There goes one point of refusal,_ he thought.

 

“I have to admit it’s versatility is impressive, but it might be a bit much for everyday use,” Shiro declined gently.

 

Slav sighed like he was being foolish but pulled up the second design without fuss. “Well, let’s move on to the next one for now. This one is based off of the Green Paladin’s experiments with biotech.”

 

It was perfectly proportioned, with a green and black pattern that looked very similar to the artificial body they were building for his other self.

 

“Now, this is not combat-enhancing, so it won't be much stronger than your regular arm,” Slav continued. Shiro frowned. It would be useless in battle then. “However, it has pressure sensitive technology. It can even be camouflaged to look natural,” Slav finished.

 

“It would be able to look like skin?” asked Shiro, stunned. Slav nodded. Shiro nibbled his lower lip in thought. That option was more tempting than he’d expected. It would be *amazing* to be able to feel with his right hand again.

 

However, his fighting style often relied on the fact that his arm *couldn’t* feel. As for the arm looking like flesh, it wasn’t strictly necessary. It was a nice (incredibly tempting!) thought though. Even though he’d disliked his Galra arm at times, it was undeniably useful on missions. With a little remorse, Shiro turned down the second design.

 

“Hmm, that one was a little too everyday yes?” Slav mused. “Then I think you will like this one.” He pulled up the third design, and Shiro blinked. It appeared to be a white and gray version of his old arm. Ruefully, Shiro wondered if his new hair was going to permanently alter his color scheme.

 

“This is actually Princess Allura’s concept, adjusted by myself,” Slav said proudly. “I fused Altean aesthetics and the combat functionality of your previous arm into this one. It operates the same way, with an added feature.” Slav played a simulation where glowing teal nodes at the shoulder port, elbow, and wrist could be disconnected and controlled from a distance.

 

“The princess’ design had the forearm floating, but I thought having the upper arm would be more comfortable,” finished Slav, folding his hands. Shiro studied the arm for a moment. This design was the best, but he didn’t want to discredit all of the genius’ hard work by immediately choosing it.

 

“All of these are really great, Slav,” Shiro said with a smile. “I appreciate all the effort you’ve put into this.”

 

Silence hung uncomfortably. Puzzled, Shiro took in Slav’s posture. He was wringing his hands and not making eye contact. Shiro’s confusion melted into realization.

 

They’d been getting along well enough, but the first impression Shiro had given Slav was someone disdainful and angry. Heck, Shiro still occasionally snapped at him. He remembered his ire at Slav’s abrasive nature when he came into the lab today, and shame washed over him. 

 

“Look, I don’t know how to say this,” Shiro began softly, “but I guess I just wanted to say that I’m sorry. I know we didn’t start off on the right foot.”

 

“It’s fine. You got me out of there,” Slav mumbled. “And I was...unfocused at the time.”

 

 _Because he was tortured and traumatized,_ thought Shiro. He’d seen the intel. He swallowed, a bitter thought occurring to him.

 

“I was a prisoner once too. I should have remembered what was like,” he murmured. Subdued, Slav looked down and folded all eight of his arms.

 

“Can you forgive me?” Shiro ventured. He’d let his temper get the better of him when Slav was at his most vulnerable. Shiro tried to imagine if Ulaz had been as unsympathetic as he had been. It wasn’t a pleasant thought.

 

Slav raised his eyes, and something softened. He extended one of his top hands. Shiro met him halfway and shook.

 

“Now shake the two below it,” said Slav, and Shiro obeyed in good humor. “And hold up three fingers!” Bemused, Shiro obliged.

 

“There, now the probability of us having another altercation has been lowered by ninety-three point seven percent,” said Slav, pleased. He turned back to his screen, and Shiro smiled. Despite his eccentricity, Slav seemed...better since the escape. He was glad.

 

“So,” Slav continued, leaning against the console, “The arm. What do you think?” Shiro looked at it once again. He imagined wearing it, and the image crystallized.

 

“It’s perfect,” Shiro affirmed. Slav puffed up.

 

“I knew you would pick this one,” he said with some of his old self-assuredness.

 

“The princess arrived during our discussion,” the genius informed abruptly, pulling up the schematics. “She will explain the attachment process. I need to finish the construction of the arm.”

 

Slav buried himself in equipment, lost to his work before Shiro could even say thank you. Shiro swiveled on his stool to see Allura in the middle of the lab, holding a grapefruit-sized crystal. Hunk stood next to her and put his hand on it. She laid her palm over his knuckles and closed her eyes. The crystal glowed, bathing the pair in soft yellow light. After a moment, Allura let go; and Hunk took a step back, peering into the luminous entity inquisitively.

 

“Hello, Princess,” called Shiro. Both Hunk and Allura turned their attention to him. Hunk waved and adjusted his welding goggles. Allura was wearing her flight suit with her hair in a high ponytail.

 

“Shiro! Have you picked an arm yet?” she asked, approaching with the crystal.

 

“Yes, it’s the one you and Slav designed together,” Shiro informed, sticking a thumb over his shoulder at the screen.

 

“That’s wonderful! Though the final design is thanks to Slav. It used to be a lot bulkier,” she admitted bashfully, stopping in front of him.

 

“With bright lights on the shoulder and forearm. How was your paladin supposed to sleep?” Slav teased from his workstation. Allura gave a soft laugh. Hunk disappeared to the other side of the lab, discussing something with Pidge over a screen. Shiro turned his attention back to the crystal, now at eye level.

 

“This is for our new friend. We each are putting some quintessence in here,” she explained.

 

“Why everyone’s?” Shiro wondered aloud.

 

“Lance was concerned that some human needs would carry over, such as touch. Pidge says that the android body won’t need it, but that doesn’t mean he won’t want it. So with this, he’ll be able to feel us,” Allura summarized.

 

Shiro pondered the idea. His other self’s power source would be comprised the energies of the people closest to him. It was fitting and poetic. Shiro raised his hand.

 

“Then you probably want mine too?” he asked.

 

“Well yes, but you have a procedure coming up and you’re still recovering,” Allura reminded, scanning him for signs of weariness.

 

“I’d rather get it done now,” Shiro insisted. Allura hesitated, but then caught his hand and rested in on the crystal. Shiro relaxed and let his  _ki_ flow, easily falling into the exercise from his mediation _._  He felt a pull from the center of his chest, and his fingers tingled as his quintessence seeped into the crystal. Allura let go and stepped back.

 

“How are you feeling?” she asked, eyes tight.

 

“Fine. I don’t feel any different actually,” admitted Shiro.

 

“Good, it was only a small amount, but I wanted to be sure you were all right,” said Allura, relieved. Shiro’s fondness warred with annoyance. He couldn’t wait for everyone’s overly careful approach to him to dissipate.

 

 _They love you,_ rumbled Black.

 

 _Yeah, they do,_ he thought, choosing to let fondness win.

 

Shiro stood and followed Allura to the other side of the lab as they discussed the surgery. One procedure was already done - the removal of the old shoulder port. Shiro was relieved to have it gone. Even having a small piece of the formerly controlled arm haunted him. His right stump was wrapped in a compression bandage, hidden under the pinned-up sleeve of his black shirt. The second procedure would involve adding the new shoulder port and attaching his arm.

 

“Pidge said that the artificial body will be complete by tomorrow, so when would you like to schedule the surgery?” inquired Allura.

 

“Probably the day after tomorrow,” replied Shiro after a pause. He pushed down a wave of anxiety. The first procedure had gone perfectly, with Coran supervising. The Olkari medics had explained every step and had been so gentle. However, the thought of getting another arm attached, no matter how friendly the environment, made his stomach twist. He felt Black butt against the base of his skull.

 

 _You will not be alone,_ she reassured.

 

 _I know,_ thought Shiro gratefully.

 

“Very well, I’ll inform the medics,” said Allura. She handed over the crystal to Hunk, and he took it reverently.

 

“Is it ready?” Hunk asked.

 

“Not quite, but I suppose you can put it in now,” she allowed. “I can ask Keith for some of his quintessence once he arrives. He finished a meeting half a varga ago, so he should arrive soon.”

 

“Meeting?” prompted Shiro.

 

“The Coalition leaders wished to discuss something. I was busy with this project, so Keith went alone. I’ll have to follow up with them as soon as possible,” replied Allura.

 

“Speak of the devil,” announced Lance, dragging Keith in with an arm around his shoulder.

 

“The meeting went well, princess,” informed Keith, tolerating Lance’s clinging. “There’s still no word from Lotor, but the Coalition is running smoothly. Everyone seems a bit tense though. They want to know what Voltron’s plan is from here.” Allura’s shoulders drooped.

 

“Right. I will join you for your next check-in with Kolivan. It might be good to run some ideas by him,” she said, putting on her ‘strong leader’ face. Shiro wondered if she had any clue what to do about Lotor. He certainly didn’t.

 

“Are you guys almost done?” Lance asked excitedly.

 

“Yup!” chirped Hunk. “We’ll be ready to upload his consciousness tomorrow.” Lance whooped, squeezing Keith tighter and causing him to lose his balance.

 

“Aw yeah! Can’t wait to meet Jiro!” he exclaimed. Keith stoically wormed his way out of the near stranglehold.

 

“I thought you were against deciding names for him,” Pidge pointed out.

 

“I don’t know, I have my money on Ryou,” betted Hunk.

 “Well, I think he’ll come up with a cool name for himself,” Pidge countered. Keith leaned against the table with the artificial body and crossed his arms.

“So if we’re bringing him back tomorrow, when’s the surgery?” Keith asked Shiro.

 

“The day after we bring him back,” he replied, gesturing to the android.

 

“Good, I’ll be there,” promised Keith. Then, he turned to Allura. “Princess, Kolivan wanted to speak to me alone after the Coalition meeting.”

 

“Don’t let us keep you then,” Allura said. “Ryner offered to have a meal prepared for us tonight, so when you’re done meet us on the lounge on the top floor.”

 

“Right. I’ll see you there,” Keith said, waving as he exited the lab.

 

“Aaaand he’s gone,” Pidge quipped.

 

“He’s been so busy lately,” commented Hunk.

 

“So have we,” said Pidge.

 

“Oh!” Allura smacked her forehead. “I forgot to ask him about the crystal. I suppose I’ll have to do it later.” Pidge removed her glasses and rubbed her eyes.

 

“We should call it a day,” she grumbled. “We’ll do one more check before the upload tomorrow to make sure everything is right.”

 

“I can look it over again after you leave,” piped Slav. Pidge side-eyed him warily, and Slav held up his arms.

 

“I won’t change anything this time, I’ll just make notes,” he promised.

 

“Good. And yes Slav, that would be helpful,” Pidge said. “You’ve been great at catching things that I wouldn’t even think of.” 

 

“Oh! Hey guys,” interjected Hunk, “If we’re bringing our clone buddy back tomorrow, we should have Shiro and Keith’s coming home party tonight!” After a round of affirmations, Hunk turned to Lance. “I need to take a trip to the castle to grab some stuff I made. A little help?”

 

“You got it bud,” Lance shot back. They both hurried out of the lab.

 

“I’ll send a message to Coalition leaders now,” said Allura. “I’ll meet you up there.” Once she left, Pidge leaned over the artificial body.

 

“You ready to go up?” Pidge asked Shiro.

 

In truth, Shiro was craving his room. He wasn’t quite to his limits, but was getting there. Maybe he could take a quick nap in the lounge before everyone arrived.

 

“Sure, let’s go,” he said.

 

_________________

 

The sun had sunk below the horizon, causing the stars to awake from their slumber. Shiro and Pidge rode a glass elevator up to the spacious living area. Shiro recognized it as the former chambers of King Lubos. Pidge plopped down on the couch in front of the enormous entertainment screen, and Shiro sank into the cushion opposite of her. He closed his eyes.

 

 _You may not want to fall asleep yet_ , Black murmured.

 

 _Why?_  thought Shiro. Black didn’t respond, and Shiro frowned. Pidge’s tablet beeped, drawing his attention. She swiped to check her messages, then gasped and shot off the couch. Shiro peered at the tablet she’d dropped beside him.

 

“ _I’m here_ ,” it said. There was no indication of who it was from.

 

That was an annoying feature of Altean tech. Apparently, they considered video messages as the superior form of communication, and any written missive required the sender to announce who they were each time. Shiro turned his head to listen as the door opened behind him.

 

“Pidge!” a voice called out. There was an “oomph!” as Pidge tackled the newcomer. As he continued speaking, the world blurred at the edges. Shiro knew that voice. Heart pounding, he stood.

 

A young, thin, terrified Matt was burned on the back of his eyelids. With robotic slowness, Shiro turned.

 

This Matt towered over Pidge. He was still slender, and hair was longer. A scar ran up his cheek. He seemed a little worn around the edges, but his eyes were full of sparkle.

 

“All right you jerk,” growled Matt playfully, ruffling Pidge’s hair as she shrieked, “Now you get to explain. None of this,” he paused to do a goofy voice and air quotes, “‘I’m too busy with a secret project’ nonsense.” He laughed and looked at Shiro. 

 

“Dude, what’s up with the hair?” he said as he sauntered over. “You get a dye job or…” Matt paused as Shiro haltingly raised his hand.

 

“Hey...you okay?” he prodded, concern growing.

 

“Matt...” Shiro whispered.

 

“Takashi, what’s going on?” Matt pressed, laying a hand on his shoulder. And that did it. Shiro squeezed the younger man to his chest and buried his face in his collarbone. He could practically feel the question marks manifesting around Matt.

 

“Shiro, you ok??” Matt asked, alarmed. Shiro’s breaths grew raspy, and Matt returned the hug fiercely.

 

“I’ve got you,” Matt soothed, rubbing Shiro’s back as the older man swallowed sobs.  “Um, want to talk about it? If not I’ll shut up. Either way let’s go into the lounge, yeah?” Matt tugged gently, and Shiro let himself be led.

 

____________________

 

Hunk and Lance arrived back at the lounge with containers in hand. They heard a sniffle from the couch, and they saw the Holts plus Shiro sitting there.

 

“Oh jeez,” whispered Lance. They awkwardly tiptoed to the kitchenette in the adjacent room.

 

As Lance slid the pizza Hunk had frozen in advance into the oven, Hunk peeked back into the living area. Matt planted himself on the couch across of Shiro and demanded in a low, concerned voice to know what was going on. Shiro started speaking, quiet and raspy. Pidge sat at his side.

 

“We should go,” whispered Lance in his ear. Hunk jumped.

 

“Yeah, we should,” he replied. He didn’t move. Lance halfheartedly tugged Hunk back.

 

Matt was intent throughout Shiro’s explanation. Midway through, he dragged his hands over his face, then kept them over his mouth for the rest of story, almost as if to keep himself from interrupting. His eyes shone. When Shiro finished speaking, Matt sat for a minute, processing.

 

“I’m going to beat up your lion,” he said matter-of-factly. Shiro’s protests were drowned out by oven timer. Hunk and Lance leapt behind the kitchenette wall to avoid being caught. They guiltily slunk back to their tasks. Hunk felt his ears growing three sizes as he pulled the pizza out.

 

“It turned out for the best,” Shiro said, muffled.

 

“By keeping you in isolation for a year??” Matt shouted. Hunk looked at Lance and they winced. The pair kept busy, setting out plates and cutlery.

 

“By keeping me alive!” Shiro returned fervently. They lowered their voices again, and Hunk restrained himself from resuming his eavesdropping post. Once they were done setting things out, Hunk peeked back in. Matt seemed calmer, but still didn’t look happy.

 

“Dude,” chastised Lance.

 

“I’m waiting for a good time to interrupt,” Hunk defended. His opportunity came when Allura, Romelle, Coran, and Keith came through the door. He grabbed the pizza and entered the lounge with a smile. Pizza made everything better, right?

 

___________________

 

Keith mulled over the last meeting with Kolivan as he and the Alteans entered the lounge. He still hadn’t been able to give a satisfying answer about his status with the Blades. Keith knew Krolia was thinking about going back, but she stuck by her promise to never leave him again. After spending two years with her, he thought he might be ready for her to leave for a short period of time. It wasn’t like she was leaving. He would still miss her though.

 

Keith stopped when he noticed Shiro and Matt, both red-eyed and exhausted. Pidge craned her head over her shoulder and grimaced. Keith raised his eyebrows. Had she not brought her brother up to date?

 

 _Evidently not,_ Keith realized, taking in their posture.

 

“Hey, who’s ready for pizza?” called Hunk, bearing a steaming, generous platter.

 

“Is that what that smell is?” asked Allura, nose turned up curiously.

 

“Pizza? All the way out here?” said Matt, mood un-souring. “Hunk, you are a heavenly being.”

 

“You know the Olkari are providing a meal for us,” Coran remarked. “The one with their national grain, steamed vegetables, and a sauce to die for?”

 

“Don’t worry, we’ll be sure to eat that too,” reassured Lance, “We’re growing paladins. But this, Coran the man, is the best party food in the whole galaxy.”

 

“I am eager to try this dish you sing praises of,” Romelle piped, shyly inserting herself into the group. Keith sympathized, knowing the feeling of being the new person. He sat by her on the couch as Lance and Hunk brought out pizza and cake.

 

In the end, the coming home party was an informal affair. They bonded over Earth comfort food and Altean fizzy drinks. It was like soda, without the sharpness of carbonation; and it gave a tingly affect without the inhibitions of alcohol. The only one absent was Krolia, who kept watch over the castle in their absence. Matt and Shiro sat close together, subdued. Shiro leaned on Matt’s shoulder, looking ready to drift off at any moment.

 

“Oh hey Keith, call your Mom,” Hunk said suddenly.

 

“Why?” asked Keith, sensing the anticipatory glances the others sent him.

 

“Just do it,” assured Hunk. Keith pulled up his communicator screen on his gauntlet. He was the only one in paladin armor due to not having time to change between the meetings.

 

“Keith, what’s going on?” inquired Krolia. She was sitting in one of the bridge chairs. The view was from a side screen, and she obviously had work up on the other ones.

 

“You tell me,” he intoned as Hunk peeked over his shoulder. Hunk turned him around, so that everyone was in the shot. Then, Lance held up a cake, decorated with candles. The humans broke out into ‘Happy Birthday’ as Keith and Krolia’s eyes grew wide. Pidge and Lance added ‘cha cha cha’ between each round. Matt swayed Shiro back and forth dramatically, and the Alteans picked it up the song on the third round. Everyone finished with a horribly off-key,

 

“Happy biiiirrrthdayyy toooo yooooooou!!”

 

Krolia pressed her hands to her chest, eyes soft. Her eyes shone, and Keith startled over seeing her this close to tears.

 

“Your father sang that for your first birthday,” she whispered. “We completed this ritual together.”

 

“Speaking of which, it’s not complete,” interrupted Hunk. “Hurry and blow those out before they start dripping on Lance!” Keeping his gauntlet up so Krolia could see, Keith took a deep breath and doused the candles in one go. Everyone cheered and clapped. 

 

“Does extinguishing the flame mean something?” inquired Romelle.

 

”Yeah, you’re supposed to make a wish before you blow them out,” said Hunk.

 

”Does it work?” Romelle prodded.

 

”Oh uh, it doesn’t actually grant the wish. It’s just superstition, sorry,” Hunk clarified.

 

”That’s all right. It seems Earth has some interesting customs after all,” she enthused.

 

“It’s a shame Alteans never thought of setting pastries on fire for special occasions,” Allura laughed.

 

“You know it’s not my birthday,” said Keith, waving away the smoke.

 

“Yeah, but we missed two of them,” Hunk pointed out. “Hence the two cakes. I wanted to make one for Shiro too, but three seemed like too much.”

 

“And it would be a crime to ruin this one with candles,” proclaimed Lance, gesturing to the second cake. It resembled a curled-up Cosmo. Keith had to admit it was adorable. He showed it to Krolia and she complimented Hunk on his craftsmanship.

 

Keith said his goodbyes and promised to save a slice for Krolia. Hunk served up his masterpieces. The one with candles was lemon cake with buttercream frosting, and the Cosmo one was a marbled chocolate. Romelle asked how Hunk achieved the marbling effect, and he explained, excited to have such a rapt student. Cosmo sat next to Shiro, and he ran his hand through blue fur.

 

“Careful,” Keith warned, “he likes to cozy up to you just so he can steal a bite.” Shiro chuckled and held his pizza away. Cosmo shot Keith a betrayed look. Later, if Keith noticed Shiro sneaking tidbits to his wolf when he thought no one was looking, he pretended not to notice.

 

“It’s wonderful you were able to join us, Matt,” said Allura.

 

“It’s good to see you too,” Matt said without the rambunctious suaveness of his first encounter. “And um, I heard what happened. For the record, I never trusted that Lotor guy. Next time I see him, I’ll kick his purple butt.”

 

“Oh, same dude,” replied Lance, saluting with his pizza slice. Allura hunched over self-consciously.

 

“We are not at war with the Galra Empire,” she clarified.

 

“And we are relaxing now,” enunciated Hunk. “No Coaltion talk unless it’s an emergency.”

 

“Hear, hear,” cheered Pidge. Keith slouched back into the couch, then grimaced as the collar of his armor pressed into his neck.

 

“You can change out of that, dude,” said Hunk. “You can just wear your flight suit and cozy up in a blanket.”

 

 _That does sound nice,_ Keith thought.

 

“All right, be back in a sec,” he grunted, standing and heading to the adjacent bathroom.

 

___________________

 

Later, Coran sat next to Keith with a book. He explained a game that the rest of the paladins had played and offered to teach him the rules for their next session. Romelle sat on Coran’s other side as he read from the tome, and Keith inspected the figurines. He stuck one arm out from his blanket burrito to fiddle with a paladin token that looked like Shiro. It took a second for it to sink in who it was.

 

 _This is getting to be a bad habit_ , Keith thought ruefully.

 

Even when he was talking about the clone, Keith still called him “Shiro.” He didn’t understand why he couldn’t separate the two. Uneasiness crept up his spine. They were doing the right thing, but Keith didn’t know how to feel about someone who had all the memories of him that Shiro did, but *wasn’t* Shiro. Keith chewed his lip and twirled the figurine. Maybe he was overthinking things. Again.

 

It was hard to stay lost in thought when sandwiched between friends. He was never a fan of noise, but it had gotten worse after two years of being in space. It was, however, a welcome change from the never-ending barrage of visions from the past and future. Dealing with that for two years had increased his mental resilience, so it balanced out in the end.

 

He wondered if maybe his space trip had altered his perception of what was normal. Maybe.

 

Allura proposed a toast.

 

“To Shiro and Keith! For coming back to us after so long,” she declared.

 

“Always,” said Shiro. It sounded like a promise. Keith smiled, and Pidge leaned against his side.

 

“To our new family member,” cheered Hunk, “Ryou-Jiro-whatever-his-name-will-be!”

 

“To my genius sister, Hunk, and other scientists who made the project possible!” called Matt.

 

“To friends,” Coran said softly, “Who become family.” Keith smiled into his cup.

 

This. This is what he’d missed about team Voltron.

 

Keith never had family he could call his own, not after his father passed away. He’d gained and lost Shiro in a short amount of time, then found him again. Then he was pulled into this crazy mission with a bunch of people he barely knew. People who became family. People who welcomed him back with open arms, enthusiastically, with no questions asked.

 

He’d been missed. Keith hid his rising emotion behind his cup as they chugged their beverage of choice. If the universe was kind, he would never, ever walk away from this again.

 

___________________

 

 “There, that should do it. I think,” said Pidge, handing over the headband.

 

Exhausted, Shiro took it and settled down in front of the containment unit. He and Pidge crowded into the dark corner of the castle workshop where it resided. Everyone else had gone to bed by now.

 

“Ok, just go and talk to him for a bit, then let me know if you’re able to get more than memories or feelings,” instructed Pidge.

 

“All right, be right back,” Shiro replied, settling the device around his head. He breathed deeply and reached out to the container. He felt his other self drawn to his energy like a moth to the flame.

 

 _Hello there,_ Shiro thought.

 

...  _Hi_

 

 _Oh great, I can hear you now!_ Shiro said, relieved.

 

_You can?_

 

 _Yes. Pidge fixed the headbands,_ Shiro informed.  _I came to tell you that we’re almost done with your new body. We’ll be ready to upload your memories tomorrow. Now I couldn’t get a clear answer about whether you wanted to go through with this yesterday. So...what do you think?_

 

There was a pause, and a formed shimmered in front of him. Unprepared for the uncanny valley of looking at his own face, Shiro startled. The lavender, ghostly figure of his other self closed his eyes.

 

 _Don’t do it,_ he insisted. Shiro raised his eyebrows at the refusal.

 

“Why?”

 

 _This is a bad idea,_ the other continued. Golden, luminous orbs materialized around him, and he shoved them at Shiro.

 

Shiro was battered by memories of battles against Haggar’s robeasts. He struggled against them, but the intensity of the attack pulled him under like a flashback. The other him’s energy felt frantic, desperate; and Shiro reeled under the force of his other self’s memories and emotions.

 

As quickly as they came, they disappeared. Shiro gasped and struggled to get his bearings in the void again. The other him’s light dulled, flickering like a candle flame.

 

 _They should have gotten rid of the dangerous parts and kept you,_ he said, eyes sorrowful but accepting.

Shiro’s mind scrambled to make sense of his other self’s response. The memories were all robeast attacks…

 

 _Oh, he thinks he’s dangerous, like a robeast,_ Shiro realized.

 

 _Yes,_ his other self thought. _And what do you do with monsters?_

 

 Shiro searched for a response that would knock that poisonous thinking right out of his other self’s head. He had been wary of his clone at first, wanting him dead? Not a chance.

 

 _I understand the desire to protect the team,_ Shiro began,  _I really do. But I don’t want you talking about yourself like that. No one wishes you were gone, understand?_

 

 _You have your life back. I should have died so that you could live,_ he insisted quietly.  _They don’t need me now._

 

Shiro spoke with the calmest, sternest voice he could muster.

 

 _You don’t owe me *anything*,_ he emphasized.  _It’s not your job to die so that I can live, understand? It’s not Pidge’s job. It’s not Allura’s. Or anyone else on the team. Would you want that for them?_

 

...  _No_!

 

Shiro could feel the horror from his other self at the thought. Good.

 

_Then please don’t think of yourself that way. You’re just as important. And needing you? It’s more than that. You’re not replaceable. Haggar may have designed you to be a tool, but you’re not to us._

 

 _Then why a robot?_ countered Not-Shiro.

 

 _Um, Pidge would be able to explain it better, but you’ll be autonomous,_ Shiro offered.

 

 _It’s still a bad idea,_ he insisted.  _What if Haggar still has a connection to me?_

 

 _If she somehow has a link to your consciousness, we’ll figure it out. Allura and Pidge have you covered there,_ Shiro assured.

 

There was another pause. Though his other self said nothing, Shiro could feel one emotion emanating from under all the others.

 

Fear.

 

 _Look_ , Shiro continued gently,  _I know you’re scared, but you have to trust us. Please don’t give up so soon._

 

_Soon?...How long has it been?_

 

Shiro protective instinct reared his head. Clearly the effect of isolation in the container was more severe than he’d thought. Shiro had gotten a taste of what it was like. He should have known better. He should have checked in more often.

 

 _It’s not your fault,_ his other self said dully, picking up on his thoughts.

 

 _It kind of is. I’m sorry we haven’t been communicating as well as we could have. I’ll make sure someone speaks with you before the procedure tomorrow, at least,_ offered Shiro.

 

 _I’m still not sure about this,_ the other him insisted.

 

 _Do you want to try speaking with Pidge? She would be able to explain the android better than me,_ Shiro suggested.

 

 _...Yes_.

 

_All right, she’ll be here in a minute. Hang tight, Ryou._

 

 _Ryou?_ Shiro heard right before he disconnected.

 

 _Whoops,_ he thought, blinking in the light of the lab. He’d have to go back and explain that.

 

“Hey! How did it go?” asked Pidge, leaning down.

 

“Good,” said Shiro, rubbing his eyes. “I could speak to him in complete sentences. He’s not sure about tomorrow though. He wants to talk to you about it.” Shiro took off the headband and held it out.

 

“Oh, um…really?” squeaked Pidge, gripping her datapad harder.

 

“Yes. I think you’d be better at describing the process than me,” said Shiro.

 

“Ok yeah, totally. Um…” Pidge stuttered, tapping her fingers on the pad. After a pause, she blurted, “Is he mad?” Shiro dropped his arm and tilted his head.

 

“No, why?”

 

“Oh ok,” breathed Pidge. “I was just worried because we didn’t ask him if it was ok to do this in the first place.”

 

“No, he’s just confused. And a little scared,” admitted Shiro.

 

“Ok, I’ll give this a try,” said Pidge, taking the headband determinedly.

 

_____________________

 

He felt Pidge reach out to him but couldn’t communicate with her in full sentences. He could hear her speaking, which was an improvement from before. Also, he could send memories and feelings to her now.

 

Briefly, he wondered why Shiro was the only one who could talk to him now, and the only one who could connect to him at all before.

 

He focused on Pidge as she began rambling about the project.

 

 _We didn’t design this code to...control you,_ Pidge explained.  _We artificially preserved your memories so you could live. You’re not restricted to pre-programmed perimeters when it comes to your knowledge and personality. You are however, in a contained system. We won’t allow you access to networks or castle mainframe yet._

 

He sent her a series of memories, like a picture pantomime. He showed the virus implant, then Lotor’s empty cell.

 

...  _Contain the virus?_ Pidge guessed. He sent a memory of her nodding, a loophole he hadn’t thought of before.

 

 _It’s the other way around, actually. To protect you from a virus so it doesn’t corrupt you, like what happened to King Alfor,_ Pidge clarified. He sent a feeling of understanding.

 

 _You’re not a prisoner. That’s a security measure for your own good. Hopefully, you’ll be able to connect to a network. I’ll teach you how to fight any malware first,_ she promised. He sent an expectant feeling, and Pidge continued.

 

_The body itself is robotic, obviously, but you’ll be able to superimpose a holograph over the surface, like my doubles. It won’t fritz out with contact, and you can change your appearance at will. We incorporated touch sensors in the body, and your eyes are the best micro cams Olkari had to offer..._

 

Listening to Pidge describe the android, he allowed himself cautious hope. It sounded much better than staying in here at least. Coming to a decision, he sent an image of Shiro.

 

 _You want to talk to Shiro?_ Pidge clarified. He sent the image again.

 

 _Ok, I’ll go tell him._ And she pulled away. He only had to wait a few moments before Shiro materialized in front of him.

 

 _Hey,_ Shiro greeted.

 

 _Pidge told me about the body,_  he said unnecessarily.

 

 _What do you think?_  Shiro prodded.

 

_...I’m still nervous. But I don’t want to be in here anymore._

 

Not-Shiro looked up to see Commander Holt holding out his hand. He realized Shiro was the one sending the memory this time. This was right before the Kerberos mission, the journey that had transformed both of their lives.

 

 _We’ll be with you every step of the way,_ Shiro promised.

 

Hesitantly, Not-Shiro completed the memory of the handshake.

 

 _I’ll let Pidge know your decision,_ Shiro promised.

 

_You called me Ryou before. Why?_

 

 _Oh,_ said Shiro, embarrassed,  _that’s what I’ve been calling you in my head.  Lance and Coran are fond of the name you gave yourself for Monsters and Manna - Jiro. You get to decide for yourself though. Either of those or one completely of your own. Think about it, ok?_

 

_…All right._

 

 _One of us will be back to talk with you soon. Hang in there,_ Shiro thought.

 

And he was gone.

 

He wandered his gallery of stars, pondering the implications of both names. He stumbled upon an old memory: a faded shrine for Shiro’s stillborn brother. It felt sacred, and something he shouldn’t intrude upon. But Shiro wanted to give that name to him. Could he accept it? 

 

And Jiro, that silly name he’d given his character to spite Coran. He’d intended it to mean “second character,” but he knew which translation Coran most likely intended.

 

So which did he want to be: a brother or a son?


End file.
